
_, 



THE 



LIFE AND ADMINISTRATION 



OF 



CARDINAL WOLSEY 



By JOHN GALT, Esa. 



THIRD EDITION. 



EDINBURGH : 

PUBLISHED BY 

OLIVER & BOYD, TWEEDDALE-COURT ; 

AND 

GEO. B. WHITTAKER, LONDON. 
1824. 



ENTERED IN STATIONERS' HALL. 






THE 

LIFE AND ADMINISTRATION 

OF 

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



BOOK I. 






During the predominance of the papal authority, 
all the nations of Europe formed, in reality, but 
one general state, in which the civil and military 
institutions were subordinate to the ecclesiastical. 
The submission yielded to secular superiors was 
modified by the various tenure of feudal property. 
No laws existed which the whole community was 
equally boflipd to maintain, but such as issued from 
the apostolicJ^throne. By whatever names the 
provinces of Christendom were distinguished, em- 
pires, kingdoms, or republics, the people and their 
rulers alike acknowledged themselves subject to 
the pope. Royalty did homage to superstition ; 
nor was the crown itself allodial, but held of the 
tiara. 

II. 1 The means by which the papal power was 
upheld and exercised were as wonderful as tjie ex- 



2 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tent of its prerogatives. A portion of mankind as- 
sumed privileges above the rights of the common 
race ; and the humblest member of that class might 
aspire to supreme command. As inducements to 
submission, the priesthood promised, to all who 
would most slavishly obey their authority, rewards 
which the vicissitudes of life could not affect, and 
threatened with eternal penalties those who resisted 
or renounced their jurisdiction. Man surrendered 
his reason, and yielded a degree of implicit obedi- 
ence to the pope, such as never existed under any 
other form of government. Thus the management 
of all concerns became intrusted to the officers of 
his holiness ; and, in the fulness of the ecclesiasti- 
cal usurpation, the clergy may be described as con- 
stituting the governing mind of the political body. 
III. The long, bloody, and proscriptive wars 
between the royal families of York and Lancaster, 
reduced the ancient importance of England as a 
province of Christendom, and naturally gave a 
preponderance to military domination over an 
authority founded on opinion, at an era when 
the revival of philosophy was favourable to any 
diminution in the powers of the Roman theo- 
cracy. The restoration of peace and order was 
no doubt advantageous to the church ; and un- 
der Henry VII. the clergy began to put forth 
again their former pretensions ; but the people 
no longer regarded them with the veneration 
which they had once enjoyed. In the state, how- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 3 

ever, churchmen still attained the highest offi- 
ces ; but they were generally looked upon as the 
members of an order, arrogant by the possession 
of exorbitant privileges, averse to the social in- 
terests of mankind, and their conduct, in conse- 
quence, was investigated with a jealous and inqui- 
sitorial eye. 

IV. The civil wars also tended to diminish the 
personal influence and manorial jurisdiction of the 
barons. Proscripti^ms led to changes in the pos- 
session of domains. The feudal tenants, accus- 
tomed to look upon the hereditary lord of the ma- 
nor as their natural and rightful superior, viewed 
his removal as oppression, and considered his suc- 
cessors as usurpers. The ancient ties of connexion 
between the chief and the vassal were generally re- 
laxed, and in many instances entirely dissolved. 
The nobles were divided into two factions; and, 
as the princes of York or of Lancaster alternately 
prevailed, each faction was in its turn doomed to 
suffer the vengeance of its rival. They found it 
necessary also to be more around the king than 
when the succession was not disputed : — His friends 
to maintain his cause — the moderate to avoid sus- 
picion — and his adversaries to watch opportunities 
to promote the designs of their own faction. The 
splendour of the court was thus augmented ; but 
the absence of the nobility from their castles weak- 
ened the whole structure of the feudal system 
which supported the oligarchy, and impaired for 



4 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

ever that formidable power which had resulted 
from a constant intercourse of affection and autho- 
rity between the lords and their vassals. The 
reign of Henry VIII. was not only the most mag- 
nificent in the annals of England, but also that in 
which the king exercised the greatest latitude of 
prerogative, and in which the nobility possessed 
the least influence. It was later before the full 
extent of the good, ordained to spring from the 
evil of the disputed succession, manifested itself 
among the people. 

V. Although the court presented a scene of gor- 
geous pageantries unknown in any former period, 
the personal animosities and fierce altercations of 
the civil wars had produced among the courtiers 
rude and obstreperous manners. They indulged 
in a rough plainness of address, almost as different 
from the ceremonious courtesy of chivalry as the 
easy politeness which has since succeeded. Eng- 
land never exhibited such superb spectacles of 
knighthood as in the reign of Henry VIII. ; but 
lists and tournaments were no longer regarded as 
courts of equity, nor the fortune of arms a more 
accurate criterion of guilt or of innocence than the 
verdict of civil tribunals. All the parade of chi- 
valry was renewed ; but the spirit had departed 
with the circumstances which had called it forth. 
To profess the sentiments which it had anciently 
inspired was not indeed ridiculous ; but the vows 
and pageants which added a gallant dignity to un- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



lettered valour, ceased to be objects of serious con- 
cern, and were only imitated in exhibitions for the 
amusement of the king. 

VI. The civil wars were not more favourable to 
the advancement of learning than to the authority 
of the nobility and the clergy. During the reign of 
Henry VI. polite literature had made some pro- 
gress. His pacific disposition had led him to fos- 
ter the arts which contribute to the pleasures of 
life ; but from the date of his dethronement they 
began to decline, and the universities ceased to re- 
cognise the muses. What was called philosophy 
consisted in the agitation of logical subtilties, 
founded commonly on mere verbal distinctions, 
which sharpened without informing the under- 
standing. The general notion entertained of 
science was of something infinitely beyond ordinary 
uses. It was wrapt up in language almost as mys- 
terious as the Egyptian hieroglyphics ; and no- 
thing less was expected from it than a knowledge 
of future events, and the power of conferring 
wealth and immortality. In these vain pursuits 
many important facts, it is true, were ascertained ; 
but they were passed over unheeded and unvalued. 
Divinity was the only study that tended to ad- 
vance the progress of the public mind ; and the 
art of printing favoured the prevalent bias of the 
age by multiplying the materials and excitements 
of controversy. 

VII. Besides the civil wars, exterior events had 



b CARDINAL W0L8EY. 

contributed to alter and expand the views of the 
English nation. The riches which Portugal had 
obtained by exploring the passage to India, inspir- 
ed Spain with adventurous emulation ; and her 
enterprises were rewarded by the attainment of a 
new world. This great achievement roused through- 
out Christendom a similar spirit. Avarice over- 
came ambition in the councils of princes ; and so- 
vereigns and subjects, alike eager to participate in 
the golden regions of the West, promoted the mo- 
ral independence of man by cultivating the means 
of commerce. A new order was, in consequence, 
destined at this era to arise in society, by which, in 
time, the policy of nations, the motives of war, and 
the modes of rule, were to be radically changed. 
Hitherto the power of our kings had depended on 
their territorial possessions, and the influence of 
our nobles on the breadth and fertility of their es- 
tates ; but the mercantile order, by gradual accu- 
mulation, has since attained an ascendency in the 
realm equal to that of the clergy and nobility, and 
reduced to its subserviency the prerogatives of the 
crown itself. In the reign of Henry VIII. this 
class had, it is true, not assumed any recognisable 
form ; but the principles which, by subsequent 
development, induced all its importance, began to 
affect the undertakings and treaties of the govern- 
ment. 

VIII. This state of the clergy and of the no- 
bility, of manners, of learning, and of trade, afford- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



ed ample scope for the exercise of an ambitious, 
resolute, and ostentatious mind. The following 
narrative is an attempt to delineate a character in- 
disputably of this description, and to exhibit a 
view of the events by which that character was go- 
verned in a period full of great emergencies, and 
fraught with changes affecting the interests of the 
whole human race, — a period which, like the pre- 
sent momentous age, may be regarded as one of 
those vast occasional eddies, in the mighty current 
of human affairs, by which homes and inheritances 
are overwhelmed and swept away ; but which, as 
the violence subsides, never fail to leave behind in- 
estimable riches for the use and improvement of 
mankind. 

IX. Thomas Wolsey was born at Ipswich in 
the month of March 1471. His father, though of 
mean condition, possessed some property. Per- 
suaded of the apt and active genius of his son, he 
sent him early to school, and destined him for the 
service of the church. Wolsey, at the age of 
fifteen, was a student in Oxford, and obtained the 
degree of bachelor of arts, which procured him at 
the university the name of the boy bachelor. Few 
so young, with all the advantages of rank and af- 
fluence, attained in that age academical honours. 
His great progress in philosophy and other learning 
having early procured for him a fellowship in Mag- 
dalen College, he was also appointed master of the 
school, and intrusted with the education of the 



8 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

sons of the Marquis of Dorset. The proficiency 
which these young noblemen made under his 
tuition, and his own conversational accomplish- 
ments, displayed while passing the Christmas holi- 
days with their father, so ingratiated him with the 
marquis, that he was rewarded with the rectory of 
Lymington in Somersetshire. 

X. He was at this time burser of Magdalen 
College ; but having, without a sufficient warrant, 
applied the funds to complete the great tower of 
the buildings, he found himself obliged to resign. 
The tower is still one of the ornaments of Oxford, 
and may be regarded not only as a specimen of his 
taste in architecture, but as a monument of that 
forward spirit and intrepid disrespect of precedents 
which he so amply manifested in greater affairs. 

XI. His disposition, frank and social, often led 
him to scenes and enjoyments unbecoming the 
grave regularity of the ecclesiastical profession. 
He had not resided long at Lymington before he 
was found concerned in the riots of a fair in the 
neighbourhood ; for which one of the justices of 
the peace subjected him to disgraceful punishment. 
Whether this was just or inconsiderate, it could 
not but serve to impair his respectability in the 
eyes of his parishioners. He therefore removed 
from Lymington, and was received as one of the 
domestic chaplains of Archbishop Dean. At the 
death of that prelate he went to Calais, where Sir 
John Nanfan, then treasurer, appointed him to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



manage the business of his office. In this situation, 
Wolsey conducted himself with so much discretion, 
that Sir John was induced to exert his influence to 
procure him promotion, and succeeded in procuring 
him to be nominated one of the chaplains to the king. 
XII. Wolsey, when he obtained this appoint- 
ment, possessed many of those personal endow- 
ments which are often as effectual in advancing a 
young man as either virtue or talent. He spoke 
and acted with a- generous assurance ; and that su- 
periority of deportment, which, in the glare of his 
full fortune, was felt so like arrogance, seemed then 
only calculated to acquire and secure respect. In 
the performance of his duty, he had frequent op- 
portunities of improving the impression of his ex- 
terior accomplishments ; and his advancement ac- 
companied the development of his talents. The 
abbot of the rich monastery of St Edmund ap- 
pointed him to the rectory of Redgrave, in the 
diocese of Norwich : Fox, Bishop of Winchester, 
who at that time held the privy seal, and Sir 
Thomas Lovel, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
also distinguished him by their friendship. They 
thought that his uncommon capacity might be use- 
fully employed in state affairs ; and accordingly, 
while the treaty of marriage was pending between 
the king and Margaret the Dowager of Savoy, they 
proposed him as a fit person to be sent to her fa- 
ther, the Emperor Maximilian, on that business. 
His majesty had not before particularly noticed 



10 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Wolsey ; but, after conversing with him, he was 
so satisfied with his qualifications, that he com- 
manded him to be in readiness for the embassy. 

XIII. The court was then at Richmond, from 
which Wolsey proceeded with his despatches to 
London, where he arrived about four o'clock in 
the afternoon. He had a boat waiting ; and in 
less than three hours was at Gravesend. With 
post-horses, he got next morning to Dover, reached 
Calais in the course of the forenoon, and arrived 
the same night at the imperial court. The empe- 
ror, informed that an extraordinary ambassador had 
come from England, immediately admitted him ; 
and the business being agreeable, was quickly con- 
cluded. Wolsey then returned, and reached Calais 
at the opening of the gates — found the passengers 
going on board the vessel that brought him from 
England — embarked — and about ten o'clock was 
landed at Dover. He reached Richmond the same 
night; and, after taking some repose, rose, and 
met the king as he came from his chamber to hear 
the morning service. His majesty, surprised at 
seeing him there, and supposing that he had not 
yet departed, rebuked him for neglecting the 
orders with which he was charged : " May it please 
your highness,'" said Wolsey, " I have been with 
the emperor, and executed my commission to the 
satisfaction, I trust, of your grace.'" He then 
knelt, and presented Maximilian's letters. Dis- 
sembling the admiration which he i'elt at such mi- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



11 



precedented expedition, the king inquired if he had 
received no orders by a pursuivant who had been 
sent after him ? Wolsey answered, that he met 
the messenger as he returned ; but, having pre- 
conceived the purpose for which he was sent, he 
had presumed, of his own accord, to supply the 
defect in his credentials, for which he solicited his 
majesty's pardon'. Pleased with this foresight, and 
gratified with the result of the negotiation, the 
king readily forgave his temerity, and command- 
ed him to attend the council in the afternoon. 
Wolsey, at the time appointed, reported the busi- 
ness of his mission with so much clearness and pro- 
priety that he received the applause of all present ; 
and, when the deanery of Lincoln soon after be- 
came vacant, it was bestowed on him by his majes- 
ty, who, from the period of that embassy, continued 
to treat him with particular favour. 

XIV. It has been alleged that Bishop Fox, in 
order to counteract the power of the Earl of Sur- 
rey, who then monopolized almost the whole fa- 
vour and patronage of the crown, was induced to 
avail himself of Wolsey's rising genius. What- 
ever were his motives, it may be inferred that the 
personal merits of Wolsey were beginning to 
awaken the envious apprehensions of that sordid 
race who ascribe the prosperity of others to any 
cause rather than to the efforts of ability, and to 
whom talents form a matter of offence. 



12 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

XV. Wolsey had not long been dean of Lincoln 
when Henry VII. died, and was succeeded by his 
only surviving son, then in the eighteenth year of 
his age. The claims of the rival families of York 
and Lancaster were united in the person of Henry 
VIII. He also inherited from his father greater 
treasures than any English monarch had ever be- 
fore enjoyed. Nor was he less distinguished by 
the gifts of nature than by those of fortune. His 
figure was eminently handsome ; his spirit coura- 
geous ; and his temper, though hot and arbitrary, 
was open and generous. During the life of his 
elder brother, Prince Arthur, he was intended for 
the church ; and to the effects of this design histo- 
rians have ascribed his erudition, and the personal 
share which he took in the controversies of the Re- 
formation. He delighted in magnificent specta- 
cles, and was passionately fond of equestrian and 
athletic exercises — amusements to which the princes 
and nobles of England have ever been partial. At 
his accession he was calculated by his person and 
manners to attract the admiration and affections of 
the multitude ; and by his knowledge and capacity 
to obtain the esteem and indulgence of the discern- 
ing few. By the judicious advice of his grandmo- 
ther, he selected for ministers those counsellors of 
his father who were the most respected for their 
caution and wisdom'/ And no money being requir- 
ed from the people, the affairs of the kingdom 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



13 



were managed with discretion and popularity. 
The state of Europe was also at this time auspi- 
cious to the prosperity of England. 

XVI. The Emperor Maximilian, with a view to 
secure to his family Burgundy and the Nether- 
lands, which he held only in right of his wife, 
courted the alliance of the young king. His ad- 
vances were favourably received ; for it was thought 
that Henry VII. had not acted with his usual per- 
spicacity by acquiescing in the cession of those opu- 
lent territories to a potentate already the greatest 
in Christendom ; and that their entire annexation 
to the dominions of Austria ought still to be re- 
sisted. Louis XII. of France .was at war with 
several of the Italian states, and was endeavouring 
to incorporate with his kingdom Bretaigne, which 
he had obtained by marriage with the heiress ; a 
marriage which Henry VII. was equally blamed 
for having suffered to take place without opposi- 
tion. Ferdinand of ArrOgan, who, by marrying 
Isabella of Castile, and by expelling the Moors 
from Grenada, became sovereign of all Spain, had 
reasons no less powerful for maintaining an inti- 
mate alliance with England. His daughter, Ka- 
therine, was the queen of Henry VIII. The in- 
ducements which had led to this connexion were 
strengthened by uncertainties in his political rela- 
tions with the French king, and by peculiar cir- 
cumstances in the matrimonial condition of Kathc- 






14 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

rine. She had been first married to her husband's 
elder brother. After his death, a questionable li- 
cense had been obtained from the pope, and under 
it her second marriage was completed. James IV. 
of Scotland had married Henry's eldest sister. At 
the close of the late reign a slight coolness had, 
however, arisen between the courts of Edinburgh 
and London, occasioned by the preference which 
Scotland, according to ancient policy, gave to the 
views of France ; but no serious hostility was ap- 
prehended, and the congeniality between the cha- 
racters of the two monarchs seemed likely to draw 
them into particular friendship. 

XVII. No schism had yet, to any apparently 
dangerous extent, disturbed the concord of Christ- 
endom! 1 Savonarola, who had ventured to attack 
the enormities of the papal administration of Alex- 
ander VI. was destroyed at Florence. By his death, 
the seeds of a reformation, similar to that which 
afterwards spread with such rapidity in Germany, 
were in Italy totally exterminated. The inhabi- 
tants of that branch of the Alps which stretches 
towards the Pyrenees had, indeed, separated them- 
selves from the church of Rome ; but they were a 
simple people, and held little intercourse with the 
rest of Christendom. In Bohemia a few followers 
of John Huss and Jerome of Prague preserved 
rather than asserted their principles. In England, 
from the days of Wicklifte, many had disliked the 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



15 



Roman pretensions ; but they were in general of 
humble rank, unconnected, and only united in en- 
mity against the ignorant and luxurious clergy. 

XVIII. At this period Wolsey was in the 
thirty-eighth year of his age. Although a priest, 
he frequented the entertainments of the young 
courtiers, of which he partook with the gayety of 
secular freedom. One of his Oxford pupils had 
succeeded to the marquisate of Dorset, and was an 
intimate companion of the king. In his company 
Wolsey probably obtained opportunities of study- 
ing the temper and inclinations of his royal master, 
and of recommending himself to his favour by the 
knowledge of public affairs, which, in the midst of 
pleasure and dissipation, he dexterously took occa- 
sion to display. Riches and honours flowed upon 
him. In the first year of Henry he received a grant 
of lands and tenements in London, was admitted to 
the privy council, and appointed almoner. Soon after 
the king gave him the rectory of Torrington, made 
him canon of the collegiate church of Windsor, 
and registrar of the order of the Gaiter. Arch- 
bishop Bambridge appointed him to be a preben- 
dary in the cathedral of York, (1512,) where he 
was soon advanced to the deanery. And the pope, 
informed of his increasing ascendency over the 
monarch, allowed him to hold benefices to the 
amount of two thousand n\erks annually, though 
consisting of more than three parochial churches, 
if a precedent for such a dispensation could be 



tfof- 



16 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

found in the records of England. But no particu- 
lar office in the state was committed to his charge 
until after the French war, (in 1513,) of the origin 
and principal events of which it may not here be 
improper to give a brief relation. 

XIX. The restless and turbulent Julius II., in 
the prosecution of his ambitious temporal designs, 
had involved himself in continual quarrels with 
several of the Italian states ; and by his imperious 
conduct had produced a rebellion even in the con- 
sistory itself. The cardinals who disapproved of 
his violence, and whom he had excommunicated^ 
called a council, which assembled at Tours under 
the protection of Louis XII. Theyjresolved that 
the sentence of excommunication against them was 
void ; and that a monitory message should be sent 
to the holy father, in the hope of inducing him to 
act with more moderation and justice. They also 
agreed that, in the event of their message being 
contemned, he should be called before a general 
council. Julius despised their admonition, and 
treated their message with contempt. They, in 
consequence, proceeded to give effect to their re- 
solutions, and summoned him to appear at Pisa. 
Until this decisive step, Maximilian had sided with 
the schismatic cardinals ; but, as they had begun 
to manifest an undue predilection for the interests 
of France, he availed himself of it, to separate 
from the confederacy, and to join the pope. 

XX. Julius, in the mean time, finding that the 
8 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 17 

force which Louis had sent into Italy, for the 
ostensible purpose of supporting the cause of the 
cardinals, but in reality to gain conquests for 
France, was making rapid progress, anxiously en- 
deavoured to secure the assistance of England. 
For this purpose, as a mark of high favour, he 
sent to the king a golden rose, with the papal be- 
nediction, and a letter, filled with complaints 
against the unprincipled aggressions of the most 
Christian king. In this letter he employed every 
topic of persuasion that he thought likely to influ- 
ence the young and ardent mind of Henry. He in- 
voked him by the mercies of Christ, by the merits 
of his own famous ancestors, and by his duty to the 
church, to join in the league against the French 
and cardinals, offering the distinguished honour of 
declaring him the chief and protector. 

XXI. Independently of the gratification which 
Henry received from the pope's letter, and the 
mark of distinction which accompanied it, ambition 
prompted him to seek an opportunity of signaliz- 
ing himself. Bearing the title of King of France, 
he was desirous of asserting the rights which that 
title implied. Besides personal considerations, 
there were public and more solid reasons to justify 
war with France. — Louis heightened the dissen- 
sion between the pope and the cardinals for his 
own particular advantage. It was suspected that 
his enmity to Julius arose from a wish to place a 
creature of his own in the apostolical chair, and 



18 CARDINAL WOLSEY. - 

therefore it was thought not. only pious, but also 
prudent policy for England to interfere, in order 
to prevent the violation of the church, and the 
aggrandisement of her ancient rival, by the acqui- 
sition of new territories in Italy. The English 
ministers accordingly (1512) decided on war. An 
embassy was sent to Louis, requiring him to de- 
sist from hostilities. He disregarded the request. 
A herald was then despatched in form, to declare 
the ancient claims of the English kings to the 
crown of France, and to demand restitution of 
Normandy, Guienne, Anjou, and Mayne, as the 
patrimonial inheritance of Henry. War ensued. 
The king resolved to invade France in person, in 
conjunction with Maximilian. The commissariat 
of the army destined for this great undertaking 
was committed to Wolsey. The office was cer- 
tainly little consonant to his profession and former 
pursuits ; but it was the character of this singular 
man to be equally fit for every kind of business, 
and the duty was performed to the satisfaction 
both of the army and of the king. 

XXII. The forces amounted to fourteen thou- 
sand men. Being joined by the imperialists, they 
proceeded to invest Tcrouennc in Artois, a town 
defended by a deep ditch, bulwarks, and heavy 
ordnance. The king soon arrived at the earn]), 
where the emperor, assuming the red cross of St 
George, in his capacity of a knight of the garter, 
received a hundred crowns a day as the soldier of 



CARDINAL WOLSEY 



19 



Henry. Terouennc was not at first so closely 
invested but that, on the side towards the river 
Lys, a way was left open by which succours might 
be thrown in. The French resolved to take ad- 
vantage of this oversight. Accordingly, Louis, 
who lay at Amiens with about twenty thousand 
men, sent forward a large detachment of cavalry ; 
but before they had reached the scene, the allies 
had drawn their lines closer, and debarred all 
access to the town. The French abandoned their 
enterprise, and retreated. When they thought 
themselves out of danger, some among them, im- 
patient of the heat, took off their helmets ; others 
dismounted from their horses, and the whole fell 
into a state of disorder that invited surprise. In 
this condition they were surrounded by a party 
sent in pursuit of them. Though they boasted of 
possessing many of the best warriors of France, 
the rout and confusion became irresistible. The 
Duke of Longueville, Bayard, Fayette, Clermont, 
and Bussy d'Ambois, were made prisoners in the 
pursuit. This singular encounter received the 
appropriate appellation of the battle of the Spurs. 
Teroucnne immediately surrendered, and the king, 
with the emperor as his vassal, made a triumphal 
entry on the 24th of August 1513. Maximilian 
then left the army, and Henry, having ordered 
the fortifications to be destroyed, laid siege to 
Tournay. Though that town was of no great 
extent, the peasantry, by flying to it for shelter, 



20 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

had increased the population to no less than eighty 
thousand souls. Famine soon followed ; a capitu- 
lation was inevitable; and the King of England 
was speedily admitted to the sovereignty. A new 
bishop had lately been nominated to the see, but 
not installed. Henry, conceiving that he had ac- 
quired by conquest a right to dispose of the bishop- 
pric, gave it to Wolsey — a proceeding contrary to 
the rules of the church, and which afterwards oc- 
casioned much vexation and trouble to them both. 
XXIII. While the army lay before Terouenne, 
the lion of Scotland, in his herald's garb, arrived 
in the camp, and demanded an audience of the 
king. The purport of this ceremonious message 
was to obtain reparation for injuries alleged to 
have been suffered by the Scots, with a provision- 
ary declaration of war, if satisfaction should be 
refused. Henry, justly considering that James was 
instigated to this measure by the French, who 
were anxious that war should be declared by Scot- 
land, in order that the English army might be 
withdrawn from France, to defend the kingdom 
at home, returned a sharp and reproachful answer. 
■• Now," said he to the herald, " we perceive the 
King of Scots, our brother-in-law, and your mas- 
ter, to be the same sort of person that we always 
took him to be. Notwithstanding his oath, his 
promise on the word of a king, and his own hand 
and seal, to his perpetual dishonour and infamy, 
he intends, in our absence, to invade our domi- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 21 

* 

nions, an enterprise which he durst not attempt 
were we there in person. But he has not degene- 
rated from the qualities of his ancestors, who, for 
the most part, ever violated their promises, nor 
observed their contracts farther than pleased them- 
selves; therefore tell your master, that he shall 
never be embraced in any league in which we are 
a confederate ; and also that, suspecting his inten- 
tions, and justly, as the deed now shows, we have 
left behind us one able to defend England against 
him and all his power. We have provided for 
this ; and he shall not find our realm so defence- 
less as he expects. Tell him that we are the very 
owner of Scotland, which he holds of us by homage ; 
and since, contrary to his bounden duty as our vas- 
sal, he presumes to rebel, we shall, at our return, 
with the help of God, drive him from the king- 
dom." The herald, astonished and abashed at 
this lofty and impassioned address, replied, " As 
the natural subject of King James, I am bound to 
deliver boldly whatever he commands; but the 
orders of others I cannot, nor dare I say to my sove- 
reign. Your highness's letters may declare your 
pleasure, but I cannot repeat such expi'essions to 
my king." Henry, assenting to the propriety of 
the objection, ordered the herald to be entertained 
according to the usages of chivalry, and summon- 
ed a council to consider the message of the Scot- 
tish king, and the answer which it might be ex- 
pedient to return. The result wa^, a letter, in 



22 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

effect the same as the verbal declaration ; and the 
herald, after receiving a liberal largess, left the 
camp, and proceeded, by the way of Flanders, to 
take his passage to Scotland. While he waited 
for a favourable wind, the fate of his master was 
consummated in the fatal battle of Flodden — an 
event which the Scottish nation have never ceased 
to deplore, in the finest strains of their poetry and 
music. 

XXIV. The war had commenced by the Earl 
of Hume crossing the borders with his clan and 
other forces, to the number of seven or eight 
thousand men. Sir William Bulmer, who had 
been apprised of this inroad, posted his troops, in 
ambush, among the deep broom of Tillfield, and 
defeated the Scots, as they returned encumbered 
with booty. Meanwhile, King James was collect- 
ing the whole power of Scotland ; and the Earl of 
Surrey, intrusted with the defence of England, 
marched to Alnwick. The Scottish king approach- 
ed towards the Cheviot hills, the ancient scene of 
the hostile exploits of the two nations ; and Surrey, 
being reinforced, advanced to meet him, where he 
had encamped on the heights of Flodden. The 
Scots were greatly superior in numbers to the 
English, and equal in valour, skill, and discipline. 
But numbers, and bravery, and skill, weighed light 
in the balance against the destiny of the Stuarts. 
For, by one of those extraordinary and infatuated 
errors so frequent in the history of that unfortu- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 23 

nate family, the king left the high ground, and 
his army was, in consequence, totally defeated and 
ruined in the hollow below. Towards the even- 
ing he was himself discovered fighting, with un- 
daunted constancy, in the vortex of the battle. 
His standard was, soon after, struck down. 
Tossed like a wreck on the waves, it floated and 
disappeared. Made desperate by inevitable ruin, 
James rushed into the thickest throng of the spears 
and arrows, and was never seen to return. Next 
morning a body was found, which so strongly 
resembled that of the king, that it was considered 
as his. Surrey ordered it to be embalmed, and it 
was sent to the" monastery of Shene ; but, as 
James had died under a sentence of excommuni- 
cation, the rites of Christian burial could not be 
performed without permission from the pope. 
The news of the victory was communicated to 
Henry by the Earl of Surrey/ and to Wolsey by 
Queen Katherine. From her letter, it appears 
that Wolsey enjoyed the full confidence of his 
master ; and, therefore, may be regarded as already 
participating in his intentions, and influencing 
both the man and the king. 

XXV. The intelligence of this signal triumph 
was received by Henry with great exultation, at 
the same time that he was deeply affected by the 
death of James. He applied immediately to the 
pope, to revoke the sentence of excommunication, 
in order that the body might be interred in St 



24 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Paul's in London, with the honours and solemni- 
ties due to the remains of so august and gallant a 
knight. The dispensation was readily granted ; 
but doubts arising whether the Scottish king was 
actually slain in the battle, and it being reported 
that the body found on the field was not really 
his, the funeral was never performed. The corpse 
which Surrey brought from Flodden was seen, 
long after, lying in a waste room in the monastery 
to which it had been conveyed. 

XXVI. The Scottish nation, astonished and 
afflicted by so great a calamity, scarcely made any 
preparations for the defence of the country ; but 
the English government had the magnanimity to 
grant peace without stipulating for any advantage. 
This unprecedented liberality had the effect of 
forming a party, among the Scottish chieftains, 
favourable to England, and averse to the policy 
which had, for so many ages, involved their 
country in the projects and misfortunes of France. 

XXVII. After the taking of Tournay, Henry 
returned home with all that could recommend a 
sovereign to the affections of a proud and martial 
people. He had maintained, on the plains of 
France, the ancient renown of England ; the re- 
gency had been still more victorious, and the peo- 
ple, in the full enjoyment of prosperity, exulted at 
so many proofs of national pre-eminence. 

XXVIII. Soon after the king's return, the 
bishopric of Lincoln happened to become vacant, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



25 



and it was given to Wolsey ; who, in taking pos- 
session, found his wealth augmented by the move- 
ables of his predecessor. He had been scarcely in- 
vested with this new honour, when York also be- 
came vacant, and he was advanced to the archie- 
piscopal dignity. 1 * 

XXIX. In the mean time, Pope Julius II., the 
incendiary of Christendom, had died, and was suc- 
ceeded by the celebrated Leo X. who, with more 
urbanity of temper, was no less zealous in asserting 
the pretensions of the church. He opposed the 
ambition of France with undiminished vigour, and 
cultivated the friendship of England by the same 
arts as his predecessor. On ascending the apostolic 
throne, he consecrated a cap and a sword, and sent 
them addressed to Henry as the most Christian 
king.' This title, being peculiar to the French 
monarchs, was received by Henry as an omen and 
assurance of ultimate success in establishing his 
claims to the crown of France. 

XXX. But the conduct of Maximilian and Fer- 
dinand, in the war, had dissatisfied the English 
government. Louis, apprized of this change, se- 
cretly made overtures of peace. The continuance 
of hostility afforded him, indeed, no prospect of 
advantage. Two of his principal frontier towns 
were taken, the flower of his army were prisoners, 
and the remainder dejected with many defeats. 
His trustiest confederate, James, was no more ; 
and the administration of Scottish affairs had de- 



26 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

volved on Henry's sister, Margaret, the queen 
dowager. He was himself old, and unable to un- 
dergo the fatigue of longer waging war against the 
three greatest princes in Europe, combined with 
the pope, who had abandoned him to the ven- 
geance of all Christendom, as an odious schismatic/ 
He, therefore, became desirous of reconciliation 
with his enemies. 

XXXI. The Duke of Longueville, a prisoner in 
England, was authorised to negotiate with the court 
of London. Louis being a widower, the overtures 
commenced by a proposal of marriage for him with 
Mary, Henry's younger sister. The offer was ho- 
nourable to the nation, and Wolsey so exerted 
himself in the negotiation, which was secretly ma- 
naged, that it was completed before the Spanish 
and imperial ambassadors were aware of its being 
even in progress. Henry was allowed to retain 
Tournay ; was to be paid a million of crowns, ar- 
rears of tribute due to his father and himself; and 
his sister was to enjoy a jointure as large as that 
of any former Queen of France. 

XXXII. The princess, conducted to Paris, was 
received with every external demonstration of wel- 
come. In the bloom of life and beauty, Mary 
united to the spirit of her brother, and her sister 
Margaret, a delightful and gay irreverence for the 
ceremonious distinctions of her rank. In the de- 
cay of old age, Louis, incapable of enjoying the 
blandishments of his young queen, wa> teased and 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 27 

disturbed by the sallies of her vivacity. The at- 
tendants, who came with her from England, were 
dismissed; even the lady who had been recom- 
mended by Wolsey, to assist her with advice, was 
not allowed to remain. The revelries, however, of 
the wedding were scarcely over, when she was re- 
leased from her bondage by the death of Louis, 
who was succeeded by Francis I. 

XXXIII. Mary, soon after this event, inform- 
ed her brother, that, having been once married for 
policy, she ought now to be allowed to choose for 
herself; and that, rather than be controlled, she 
was resolved to become a nun. The Duke of 
Suffolk was the object of her partiality, and she 
did not affect to conceal her passion. He had been 
sent to condole with her on the death of her old 
husband ; and she told him, unless he resolved to 
marry her in four days, he should not have a se- 
cond offer. The attachment seems to have been 
known in France before the death of Louis ; for 
Francis, on the day of the duke's first audience, 
informed him, that it was understood he had come 
to Paris, in order to marry the dowager. History 
affords few demonstrations stronger than this of 
the miserable marriages to which such illustrious 
personages are subjected. 

XXXIV. A singular incident occurred at this 
juncture, which served to show the opinion enter- 
tained among the commonalty of Wolsey's exces- 
sive influence over the mind of Henry. An en- 



28 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

thusiastic friar went from London to Paris, and, 
obtaining an audience of Mary, told her gravely, 
it was rumoured in England, that she intended to 
marry the Duke of Suffolk. " Of all men," said 
the friar, " beware of him ; for I can assure you, 
that he and Wolsey have dealings with Satan, by 
which they rule the king for their own ends."" 
The marriage, notwithstanding, was speedily so- 
lemnized ; but Henry was offended at the indecor- 
ous precipitation of the widow ; his anger was not 
however, inveterate, for Wolsey easily persuaded 
him to forgive the gallant presumption of his own 
particular friend, and the juvenile levity of a fa- 
vourite sister. 

XXXV. In the forty-fifth year of his age (22d 
December, 1515,) Wolsey was advanced to the rank 
of cardinal, and was installed in Westminster Ab- 
bey, with circumstances of pomp seldom exceeded 
at the coronations of the kings. About the same 
time the great seal was given to him for life, with 
the dignity of chancellor of the realm". 2 Hence- 
forth he may therefore be regarded as the con- 
troller of England ; for, although the king ap- 
peared afterwards, personally, in every important 
transaction, the cardinal had acquired such an as- 
cendency, that the emanations of the royal will 
uere, in fact, but the reflected purposes of the 
minister. 



BOOK II. 



When Wolsey was appointed prime minister of 
England, the affairs of Europe were rapidly ad- 
vancing towards a new epoch, and society was 
pregnant with great events. The intercourse 
among the different nations was every day becom- 
ing more active and multifarious. Besides the 
concerns of peace or of war, the interests of com- 
merce began to press upon the attention of states- 
men ; venerable doctrines were falling into disre- 
pute ; and the circulation of knowledge, extending 
by the art of printing, rendered it no longer possi- 
ble to misrepresent the effects of political actions. 
The proclamation of occurrences at the market 
crosses of the towns, and the promulgation of new 
laws in the parochial churches, were the only means 
by which the English people were anciently inform- 
ed of the proceedings of their government. The 
conduct of those therefore, who had the manage- 
ment of public affairs, must have been flagitious 
indeed, when it was incapable of being disguised. 
But, at this period, state delinquencies could no 






30 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

longer be practised with impunity. The press 
had multiplied the illuminating agents of truth. It 
was not enough, that the minister should study to 
please only the sovereign and his parasites : the peo- 
ple also expected to be gratified, and generally in 
things obnoxious to the court. This alteration in 
the ancient system of rule, little as it was at first 
perceptible, has since, insensibly, obliged the mi- 
nisters of England to study the will of the nation 
more than the predilections of the nobles and of 
the king. 

II. Francis I., with the usual titles of the French 
monarch, assumed, at his accession, that of Duke 
of Milan; having a double claim to the duchy, as 
the heir of the house of Orleans, which had pre- 
tensions to the inheritance, and as comprehended 
in the investiture which had been made accord- 
ing to the treaty of Cambray. Succeeding to the 
means of asserting his claim, he early resolved to 
make it good, and to vindicate the glory of France, 
which had been tarnished by the enterprises of his 
predecessor. In the prosecution of this design, his 
success rendered it doubtful, whether England 
ought to permit the farther aggrandisement of her 
rival. Frequent rumours also of stratagems for 
the recovery of Tournay irritated Henry, who 
was vain of his own conquest, and these were re- 
garded as the precursors of actual aggression. An 

O I DO 

extraordinary council was, in consequence, sum- 
moned to deliberate on the state of Christendom, 

2 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 31 

and the existing relations with France ; and Wol- 
sey opened the business, by recapitulating various 
causes of complaint which the king had against the 
conduct of Francis. 

III. Several English vessels have been plunder- 
ed by the French cruisers, and indemnity, said 
he, cannot be obtained. Rich property belonging 
to the king's sister is withheld on evasive pretences. 
The Duke of Albany has assumed the regency of 
Scotland, and Francis supports him contrary to an 
express agreement, and in contempt of the will of 
the deceased sovereign, by which the queen had 
been appointed regent ; an appointment confirmed 
by the pope. The usurpation of Albany is dan- 
gerous to the king's nephew, James V., for he is 
suspected of aspiring to the throne, and has induc- 
ed the nobles to take an oath of allegiance to him- 
self, inciting them to enmity against England. Nor 
is the personal conduct of Francis such as becomes 
the honour of a king. He openly protects Rich- 
ard de la Pole, a fugitive English traitor. But if 
all these distinct and palpable grievances be not 
sufficient to induce England to interfere with the 
proceedings of France, prudence, prospectively 
considering the effects of the conquests in Italy, re- 
quires that their extension should not be permitted. 
The existing circumstances, however, do not call 
for actual war. It is not necessary that the blood 
of England should be shed ; but the French must 
be compelled to act justly, and to restrain their 



32 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

appetite for dominion. — By assisting the pope and 
emperor with money only, the objects of a wise and 
anticipating policy will be effectually attained. 

IV. In opposition to the proposal of Wolsey, it 
was urged, that to recommend the violation of 
treaties was a strange doctrine. When just causes 
arise for the dissolution of compacts, the injured 
party ought to protest against the aggressor, be- 
fore proceeding to war. If any other course is 
allowed, the law of nations must be sacrificed, and 
the dealing of kings become destitute of integrity. 
The conduct of Francis may have been justly re- 
presented, but his actions are capable of a different 
explanation ; and it is necessary, therefore, to ex- 
amine them with circumspection. He entertains 
Richard de la Pole generously ; but whether be- 
cause he is an English traitor, or only a volun- 
teer seeking employment, seems at least doubt- 
ful. To his interference with the affairs of Scot- 
land it is easy to apply an adequate remedy. If 
Albany be dangerous to the rights of James V. 
and his mother, let the king protect them ; but 
seek not, by subsidies, to kindle into fiercer strife 
those remote wars, of which the issue cannot be 
known. 

V. The allegations of Wolsey did not justify 
actual hostilities, but they furnished a sufficient 
pretext for the measure he proposed. The pope 
and emperor were apparently unable to resist the 
progress of the French arms. If Henry showed 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 33 

himself partial to their side, Francis might be in- 
duced to agree to terms favourable to the indepen- 
dence for which they contended. The violation of 
public engagements, by frank or by secret dealing, 
is undoubtedly contrary to all the theoretical prin- 
ciples of morality; but the guilt of the govern- 
ments, whose designs and practices render such 
violations expedient, is deeper than the delinquency 
of those whom they provoke to the crime. France 
had not, perhaps, really transgressed the terms of 
any existing treaty, but she had so acted, that Eng- 
land could no longer with safety remain neutral. 
The duration of national contracts is always con- 
tingent. The circumstances of a government may 
become so changed, as to make it virtually no longer 
the party which originally contracted. If France 
had acquired dominions, which she did not possess 
at the time of concluding her treaties with Eng- 
land, while the condition of England was in no re- 
spect altered, the jealousy of national independence 
warranted the English to seek the reduction of the 
French power. The great, the only duty of go- 
vernments, is to preserve the interests of their sub- 
jects ; nor can any alteration arise in the affairs of 
other states, which they ought to regard with in- 
difference. — The English counsellors were satisfied, 
that the relative condition of France and England 
called for an alteration in the conduct of the latter ; 
and a system of menacing neutrality was in conse- 
quence adopted. 



34 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

VI. The war in Italy, between the emperor and 
the French king, was prosecuted with various suc- 
cess. Maximilian, in order to draw Henry into 
a more available alliance than the degree of coun- 
tenance which the council had adopted, proposed 
that the French should be dispossessed of Milan, 
and that it should be feudally annexed to the Eng- 
lish crown. This proposal, like all his schemes, 
was not without a show of plausibility. He con- 
ceived that a barrier, for the protection of Italy, 
would thereby be formed, which France could not 
afterwards force without incurring the hostility of 
England. Henry's right to several provinces of 
France was as indisputable as that of Francis to 
Milan ; and this scheme seemed to promise a mode 
of adjusting their respective claims. Maximilian 
also offered to resign the empire in favour of Hen- 
ry ; but his character and actions were not calcu- 
lated to gain confidence. His projects were gen- 
erally extravagant, and his enterprises never guided 
by the perseverance and energy requisite to ensure 
success. The king and the cardinal only listened 
to the proposition with grave civility, and, there- 
fore, he sought a reconciliation with Francis. 
This was the more easily accomplished, as a cru- 
sade against the Turks was loudly preached 
throughout Christendom, and the French monarch 
was represented as the prime cause of all the 
troubles in the seat and region of the papacy, by 
which this holy purpose was delayed. It was, in- 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 35 

deed, not without rational alarm, that the attention 
of the Christians was turned towards the aggres- 
sions of the infidels, and the fierce ambition of the 
reigning sultan. 

VII. The history of Selim may be comprehend- 
ed in a few sentences. It consists but of battles 
and crimes. Understanding that his father de- 
signed to settle the empire on another son, he re- 
belled, and, by corrupting the janisaries, obliged 
him to abandon the throne. To secure his usur- 
pation he did not scruple to commit parricide. 
His brother, who had taken up arms against him, 
was vanquished, and put to death, with all the 
children of the same maternal stock. He subdued 
the Aladolites, and, descending from their moun- 
tains upon Persia, he defeated the sophy, and took 
possession of Touris. Returning to Constantino- 
ple, he spent several months in tyranny and pre- 
parations for new aggressions. His avowed object, 
was the complete subjugation of Persia, but he 
suddenly turned upon the soldan of Egypt, — a 
prince of ancient dignity ; highly venerated by the 
professors of the Mahommetan faith ; powerful by 
the opulence of his dominions, and by the military 
order of the Mamelukes, who had maintained their 
independence, with great lustre, upwards of three 
hundred years. 

VIII. The soldanic government was elective ; 
and none were advanced to the dignity of soldan, 
but men who had passed through all the grada- 



36 CARDINAL VTOLSEY. 

tions of military rank to the rule of provinces, and 
the command of armies, and who had uniformly 
proved their valour and wisdom. The Mame- 
lukes, by whom the soldan was elected, and of 
whose order he was necessarily a member, were 
formed from children, originally, chosen for the vi- 
gour of their appearance, and reared to manhood 
with frugal diet and the continual exercise of 
arms. Their number did not exceed eighteen 
thousand; but such was the excellence of their 
skill and management, that all Egypt, Syria, and 
many of the neighbouring nations, submitted to 
their sway ; and they had sometimes proved victo- 
rious over the numerous Ottoman armies. 

IX. Selim subdued this formidable state, and 
consigned many of the members to ignominious 
deaths, as if the defence of their independence had 
been a municipal crime. When he had made him- 
self master of Cairo, the Christian princes were not 
alarmed without reason. To vast resources and 
audacious courage he united an enthusiastic de- 
sire of transmitting to posterity a heroic name. 
He had studied the actions of Alexander and of 
Caesar, and repined at the inferiority of his own 
exploits. Indefatigable in the improvement of his 
soldiers, and continually augmenting his navy, 
Christendom attracted and modified his Bchemes. 
The rumour of his success, and the dread of his 
desions, agitated the pontifical court. Prayers re- 
sounded in all the churches o\' Home. Leo edified 

() 



37 

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the faith of the populace, by walking barefoot in 
the processions ; and the aid of human helps and 
means was solicited directly, as well as by the 
agency of the saints. 

X. Briefs were addressed to all Christian 
princes, admonishing them to lay aside their par- 
ticular quarrels, and, with united hearts and hands, 
to carry war into the dwelling of the infidel. Con- 
sultations were held with travellers acquainted with 
the provinces, with the dispositions of their inha- 
bitants, and the forces of the Turkish empire ; and 
a wide and general arrangement of all the array of 
Christendom was planned, and communicated to 
the governments of the different states subject to the 
papal domination. The emperor, with the horse 
and foot of his dominions, was to proceed by the 
Danube, and through Bosnia, towards Constanti- 
nople. The French king, with the armies of 
France, Venice, and the other Italian states, ac- 
companied by the Helvetic infantry, was to trans- 
port himself from Brindisi to Greece, — a country 
full of Christians impatient to revolt from the sul- 
tan. The kings of Spain, Portugal, and England, 
uniting their fleets at Carthagena, were to sail di- 
rectly to the Dardanelles, while the pope, in per- 
son, proceeded from Ancona, to join the forces as 
they invested Constantinople. Against such a co- 
alition there was good cause to hope that Selim 
would be unable to defend himself ; and a crusade, 
thus intended to cover the sea and land, could not 






38 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

fail to have a speedy and triumphant end. In the 
meantime, a tax was levied on all Christians, and 
voluntary contributions were earnestly solicited to 
promote the undertaking. 

XI. Preparatory to the execution of this great 
project, Leo enjoined a truce, on all his secular 
vassals, for five years, under penalty of the most 
grievous censures ; and cardinals, of distinguished 
address, in order to further the business, were ap- 
pointed legates to the different courts. Campeg- 
gio was sent to London. But he was informed at 
Calais, that he must remain there until Cardinal 
Wolsey was joined with him in the commission. 
This obstacle being removed by compliance, he 
landed in England. As his retinue was mean, and 
himself not opulent, Wolsey sent him twelve mules, 
and a quantity of scarlet cloth, in order that the 
pomp of his entrance into the metropolis might, in 
some degree, correspond with the importance at- 
tached to his mission. The rational few may ri- 
dicule the artifices of ostentation ; but the numer- 
ous commonalty cannot easily conceive that mag- 
nificence does not possess an intrinsic moral value ; 
nor how things, on which their superiors in know- 
ledge bestow so much attention ought not to de- 
serve respect. In every town through which 
Campcggio passed he was greeted with great ve- 
neration. On Blackheath he was met by a train 
of prelates, nobles, and gentlemen. The clergy of 
London received him in the borough with all their 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 39 

processional paraphernalia. The livery of Lon- 
don lined the streets ; the Lord Mayor and Alder- 
men humiliated themselves before him; and Sir 
Thomas More, in the name of the city, welcomed 
his arrival in a Latin oration. Such expressions 
of devotion to the pontifical government afforded 
Campeggio the highest delight. But, unfortu- 
nately, as the procession passed through Cheapside, 
a mule became restive, and threw the whole pa- 
geantry into confusion. The trunks and coffers, 
which had been covered with the scarlet gift of 
Wolsey, and which the people piously imagined 
were filled with precious presents to the king, and 
pardons and indulgences for all their own sins, 
were thrown down, and, bursting open in the fall, 
discovered a ludicrous collection of the crumbs and 
scraps of beggary. This unexpected disclosure of 
ecclesiastical imposition turned the whole triumph 
of the day into contempt ; and Campeggio, as he 
proceeded towards the palace, was a mortified ob- 
ject of scorn and derision. The motives of his 
mission were also rendered abortive by the death of 
Selim. The immediate cause of danger being re- 
moved by this event, the projected crusade was 
abandoned, and the Christian potentates turned 
their thoughts again to the modes and means of 
overreaching each other 

XII. The imperial dignity had hitherto been 
greater in name and title, than in substance and 
effect ; but nature and fortune seemed combining, 



40 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

at this juncture, to realize all its claims and pre- 
tensions to supremacy. Maximilian was far ad- 
vanced in life, and the settlement of the empire oc- 
cupied his thoughts. Charles, his grandson, had 
succeeded to the crown of Spain. By raising him 
to the imperial dignity, a larger extent of dominion 
would be subjected to the control of the Austrian 
family, than any monarch had enjoyed since the 
removal of the Roman government to Constanti- 
nople; for, with his hereditary kingdoms, this 
young prince had succeeded to a new world. 
Maximilian, with this view, began to canvass the 
electors. Francis perceived that the union of the 
Spanish and Imperial powers would be highly dan- 
gerous to his kingdom ; and therefore, in order 
either to oppose the election of Charles to the em- 
pire, or to assist in the wars that were likely to 
arise in the event of his success, he endeavoured to 
gain the friendship of Henry. 

XIII. The French nation has always had the 
sinister wisdom to employ personal inducements in 
their diplomatic transactions ; by which, though 
they may not have as uniformly succeeded in cor- 
rupting the integrity of those with whom they 
dealt, they have, generally, obtained many national 
distinctions, which are better estimated by the feel- 
ings than by the judgment of mankind. Francis, 
aware of the ascendency that Wolsey had acquired 
over his master, was persuaded of the advantage 
that might arise from obtaining his favour. For 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 41 

this purpose, he sent to London the admiral of 
France ; a man of excellent address, who was not 
long in making an agreeable impression on the 
mind of the cardinal. He adroitly lamented that 
his master had lost the friendship of so eminent a 
person; and the flattery of such advances, from 
so great a monarch, had their due effect. To se- 
cure Wolsey still more decidedly to his interest, 
Francis affected to consult him concerning the va- 
rious emergencies of his affairs. Henry was ac- 
quainted with the process of this secret adulation ; 
but it only served to convince him of the superior 
talents of his minister. " I plainly discover," said 
the king to him, " that you will govern both 
Francis and me." 

XIV. The first effects of this diplomatic adula- 
tion was a league between England and France. 
The principles on which it was founded, and the 
objects it embraced, served as the basis of the ge- 
neral treaties of the English government for a 
long period. The treaty itself may be regard- 
ed as one of the fundamental statutes of that 
great code, which, till the a?ra of the French 
revolution, constituted the laws and constitu- 
tion of the community of the European nations. 
It was enacted, if the expression may be used, 
that, between the two sovereigns, their successors, 
and subjects, perfect peace and amity, by sea and 
land, should subsist ; and that they should be the 
friends of the friends, and the enemies of the ene- 



42 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



mies, of one another. All their respective allies 
were included in the league. It was declared, 
that if the dominions of either of the principal con- 
tracting parties should be at any time invaded, the 
aggressor should be required, by the other, to de- 
sist, and make reparation ; which, if he refused to 
do within the space of a month from the date of 
the admonition, the confederates were to declare 
war against him. Should rebellions arise in any of 
their respective states, none of the confederates 
were to interfere, unless foreign princes had been 
the cause ; in which case their forces were to be all 
united against the aggressor. It was also declared, 
that none of the^confederates should suffer their sub- 
jects to bear arms against the others, nor retain fo- 
reign troops in their service ; and that all fugitives 
accused of high treason should not be received 
within their respective territories, but that after 
twenty days" 1 warning they should be obliged to 
depart. 

XV. The object of this league was to preserve 
the then relative state of the different nations, and 
to anticipate the consequences that might ensue by 
the election of Charles to the empire ; but it is 
chiefly worthy of notice as being an alteration in 
the constitution of Christendom. For the pope 
was admitted a party, and thereby became amen- 
able to a secular tribunal constituted by the mem- 
bers of the confederation : nor could he violate his 
engagements to them, without becoming subject to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 43 

the penalties and forfeitures which were provided 
to ensure stability to the league. This was the 
first grand political error of the pontifical govern- 
ment ; and from this epoch the power of the pa- 
pacy has continued to decline. Charles and Maxi- 
milian, as well as Leo X., having acceded, Henry 
naturally became the arbiter in the disputes that 
afterwards arose among the confederates. Secure 
in his insular dominions, he was not immediately 
exposed to their conflicts, and could only be indi- 
rectly affected by the continental revolutions. The 
effects, therefore, of this important measure were, 
under the management of Wolsey, calculated to 
exalt the dignity of England, and to render her the 
arbitrator of the neighbouring states. 

XVI. Besides the general league, a treaty of 
affinity and alliance was at the same time negotiated 
between Henry and Francis. The French had 
never ceased to grudge the loss of Tournay ; — 
schemes to recover it occupied their minds ; and in 
these negotiations the restitution formed a primary 
topic ; nor was it untimely introduced. The ex- 
pense of the fortifications began to be felt in the 
exchequer; and the bishop-elect had appealed to the 
pope against his dispossession by Henry, and the 
preference which the king had given to Wolsey. 
Either by the secret influence of France, or the 
negligence of the English minister at Rome, he 
obtained a bull, authorising him to use coercive 
means, and to claim the aid of the inhabitants to 



44 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 

accomplish his installation. Henry was justly in- 
censed when he heard of this, and wrote to his min- 
ister at the papal court in terms of unsparing re- 
proach against Leo. " The bull," said he, " is 
an exorbitant grant, and the pope may very well 
think, that neither I, nor my officers, soldiers, nor 
subjects, will obey processes and sentences contrary 
to justice. The bull is contrary to the laws of 
God and man, and justice and reason, and it is a 
great dishonour to the pope to have acted so in- 
discreetly. 11 This curious letter, though composed 
in the exuberant style of the cardinal, appears, by 
the fierceness of the expressions, to have been dic- 
tated by the king himself. It is also a satisfactory 
voucher, that there existed weighty political rea- 
sons for the restoration of Tournay, without the 
necessity of supposing with the contemporary his- 
torians, who had not access to the state-papers, 
that Wolsey was bribed. Henry had, it is true, 
intended to keep Tournay as a perpetual trophy 
of his campaign, but subsequent events seemed 
tending to make it the cause of controversies de- 
rogatory to his dignity. To get rid of it without 
compromising his honour was therefore judicious 
policy ; but the real motives of the resolution 
could not, with propriety, be stated to the public ; 
and those which the cardinal assigned were certain- 
ly not satisfactory. He represented, that Tournay 
lay so far from Calais, that in war it would be dif- 
ficult to keep the communication open. Being 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 45 

situated on the frontiers of France and the Nether- 
lands, it was exposed to the assaults of both. The 
inhabitants were insubordinate and averse to the 
English, so that, even in peace, a large garrison 
was necessary to preserve it, and the expense was 
greater than the utility and value of the place. 
A treaty was in consequence concluded, by which 
it was agreed, that Tournay should be restored to 
France, and the princess of England, Mary, held 
as betrothed to the dauphin. The city was given 
as her dowry ; and as Henry had made expensive 
additions to the citadel, Francis engaged to pay 
him six hundred thousand crowns, in twelve yearly 
payments. It was also stipulated, that a pension 
of twelve thousand livres should be granted to 
Wolsey, as an equivalent for the revenues of the 
bishopric, which he agreed to resign. And to 
ensure the faithful performance of these engage- 
ments, Francis contracted to give eight noble hos- 
tages, and to recall the Duke of Albany from Scot- 
land, where his presence was disagreeable to Henry. 
It was likewise arranged, that the courts of France 
and England should, next year, hold a friendly 
meeting on the plains of Picardy. 

XVII. When this treaty was ratified, the car- 
dinal gave orders to the officers at Tournay, to 
sell the provisions and the materials which had 
been collected for the new fortifications. He en- 
joined them to put all things in good order, that 
when the French commissioners arrived, the city 



46 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

might be resigned without suspicion of indirect 
dealing. He also commanded all vagabonds to be 
put out of the town, and every man to discharge 
his debts ; thus maintaining the national integrity, 
by fulfilling the engagements undertaken for the 
public, and enforcing the performance of individual 
contracts. Nor was he negligent of his own pri- 
vate rights ; he employed an honest priest to col- 
lect the arrears of the episcopal income, and the 
business was managed with mercantile sagacity. 
The disregard of pecuniary concerns is some- 
times an infirmity, often one of the many affecta- 
tions of genius ; but contempt for trifles is very 
different from the anxious particularity of avarice, 
and the negligence that entails privations. No 
man can be dishonoured by the strict administra- 
tion of his personal affairs, but the neglect of them 
is both shameful and injurious. The plea of pub- 
lic employment should not screen him from the 
imputation of private delinquency. 

XVIII. In the beginning of the year 1519, died 
Maximilian, who, by his bustling projects, had so 
long wasted the strength of the empire in fruitless 
wars. His intrigues for securing the succession to 
Charles were not complete. Francis, therefore, 
immediately declared himself also a candidate for 
the vacant throne, openly professing himself the 
rival of the Spanish king. " It is honourable to 
both," said Francis, " to desire an increase of dig- 
nity. Let neither, therefore, suppose himseJf 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 47 

wronged by the pretensions of the other, but, like 
two young lovers, emulous for a lady's favour, 
strive each, in his own way, to recommend himself. 

XIX. Francis was then in the £9th year of his 
age, gallant, ingenuous, and accomplished. He 
was formed to command the affections of a polish- 
ed people ; but a degree of self-willed impetuosity, 
and a libertine disregard of engagements, blemish- 
ed these amiable qualities. In his transactions as 
a sovereign, more feeling, rivalry, and personal 
profligacy appeared, than is usually met with in 
the conduct of kings. His opponent, Charles, 
was in many respects different, and in natural 
endowments his inferior. His mind was sedate 
and reflecting, more embued with the sinister pru- 
dence of private life, than with the magnanimity 
which should dignify a monarch. He was at this 
time only nineteen, but his head was cool and 
wary ; and he already practised artifice by the 
suggestions of natural propensity, with the ease 
and confidence of a, statesman grown hoary in dis- 
simulation. Not only sordid in making bargains, 
he always endeavoured to obtain remote advant- 
ages unperceived by those with whom he dealt. If 
Francis sometimes found himself over-reached, 
and refused to fulfil his treaties, Charles was as 
often obliged to sustain the self-wounding sting of 
disappointed cunning. 

XX. The conduct of Henry towards the two 
rivals is involved in some degree of obscurity, 



48 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

The policy of England from this period, and dur- 
ing the remainder of Wolsey^ administration, 
varied so often and so suddenly, that contemporary 
historians found it easier to accuse the cardinal of 
being alternately bribed by the Imperial and 
French courts, than to comprehend the scope of 
his views. It is the fate of statesmen to be de- 
nied the respect due to their merits, until their 
plans are surveyed from the heights of posterity ; 
but the hope of obtaining justice at last enables 
the man, conscious of great purposes, to persevere 
in his course, undismayed by the clamours of the 
multitude, malice of tyrants, and the commo- 
tions and anarchies of the world. When the Kings 
of France and Spain became competitors for the 
Imperial crown, their respective qualifications could 
not but render it difficult to determine what system 
the English government ought to pursue. The 
union of France with the empire would constitute 
a power destructive to the independence of other 
nations. The hereditary dominions of Charles add- 
ed to the empire would form a more extensive 
monarchy, but less compact than the other ; for 
Spain was shaken with intestine war, and Hungary 
exposed to the menaces of the Turks. The doubt- 
ful balance in the English councils settled in fa- 
vour of Charles ; but so lightly, that it was easily 
disturbed. Wolsey could only endeavour to ren- 
der his master arbiter to the rival kings, by some- 
times favouring the one, and sometimes the other; 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 49 

seldom acting as the decided friend of either. In 
the subsequent wars, when Charles or Francis al- 
ternately gained the ascendency, Henry sided with 
the loser, and the weight of England restored the 
equilibrium of power. 

XXI. Charles was elected emperor, and Fran- 
cis, notwithstanding the gallantry of his profes- 
sions, could not disguise his chagrin. The pains 
of mortification felt like the wounds of injury. 
Though only disappointed, he acted as if he had 
been wronged. The advantages of his alliance 
with Henry were duly estimated, and he spared 
neither flattery, presents, nor promises, to cement 
the friendship of Wolsey. He empowered him to 
arrange the formalities of the great meeting of the 
courts of France and England,— an event contem- 
plated by Charles with apprehension, and the 
effects of which he endeavoured to anticipate, by 
previously visiting Henry while he lay at Canter- 
bury, preparatory to his passing over to Calais. 
The king was secretly apprised of the imperial 
visit ; indeed it had been undertaken at the sug- 
gestion of the cardinal, who, having been solicit- 
ed to frustrate the interview with the French so- 
vereign, said, that he thought Charles might come 
himself, and discuss the business with Henry. 

XXII. About ten o'clock at night, the emperor, 
under his canopy of state, landed at Dover with 
the Queen of Arragon, and his principal no- 
bility. He was welcomed on the shore by the 





50 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

cardinal, and conducted to the castle. The min- 
gled blaze of torches, arms, and embroidery, bright- 
ened the faces of a vast multitude, as he ascended 
the heights ; and the flashing of the ordnance from 
the battlements, afforded, at short intervals, a mo- 
mentary view of the cliffs below, and the English 
and Imperial navies at anchor. Henry, informed 
of his arrival, hastened to meet him, and next 
morning they proceeded together to Canterbury, 
at that time one of the finest cities in England. 
The cathedral contained the relics of the audacious 
Becket, and was famed through all Christendom 
for its riches. In every place it was illuminated 
with the lustre of precious stones ; and the shrine 
of the papal champion was so embossed with 
jewels, that gold was the meanest thing about it. 
The cardinal and the clergy received the king and 
the emperor at the gates, and led them to the 
church where mass was performed, and fresh riches 
added to that immense treasure, which the devout 
folly of ages had heaped together. Charles was 
afterwards introduced to the queen, his aunt. 
His constitutional gravity was noticed at the even- 
ing banquet, and flatteringly ascribed to the ap- 
pearance of the Dowager of France, the wife of 
Suffolk, then the most beautiful and sprightly wo- 
man of the age, and to whom it had been at one 
time proposed that Charles should be affianced. 
After enjoying three days of revelry, and having 
obtained a promise that Henry would not enter 

8 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 51 

into any engagement with Francis prejudicial to 
him, he sailed from Sandwich for Flanders on the 
same day that the English court passed from Do- 
ver to Picardy. It has been alleged that Charles, 
during his visit, endeavoured to acquire the favour 
of Wolsey, by promising his influence to procure 
him the papacy ; but no serious effect could be 
expected from such a promise if it was made, for 
Leo X. was in the prime of life, and many years 
younger than the cardinal. 

XXIII. The meeting of the courts of France 
and England is the most sumptuous event in the 
records of magnificent spectacles. The two kings 
were in the flower of life ; the attendants were se- 
lected from the most famous and high-born of the 
rival nations ; and such was the profusion of riches, 
emulously exhibited, that the place of meeting, 
between Ardres and Guisnes, has since continued 
to be called the field of gold. Temporary palaces^ 
exceeding in splendour the regular abodes of the 
monarch, were prepared in England, and carried 
to the scene. The walls of the chambers and gal- 
leries were hung with costly arras, and the chapel 
was adorned with every thing that could increase 
the gorgeous ritual of popery. The French king 
inhabited pavilions of golden tissue, lined with 
blue velvet embroidered with the lilies of France, 
and fastened with cords of silk, entwisted with 
Cyprian gold. — But kings, by their greatness, as 



52 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

well as by their duties, cannot long continue to- 
gether. The prodigal pomp of Henry and Francis 
lasted only fourteen days. No political discussion, 
of influential consequence, took place. The inter- 
view was only the final and collective exhibition of 
those pageants of chivalry, which had so long in- 
terested the admiration of Christendom. A treaty 
was, indeed, concluded, but it only declared that 
Francis, after discharging the outstanding debt, 
due from France to England, should yearly pay 
at Calais, one hundred livres, until the marriage 
between his son and the daughter of Henry was 
solemnized. This was, probably, a kind of feuda- 
tory acknowledgment, personally to Henry, for it 
was to continue payable throughout his lifetime. 
It was also agreed, that the differences relative to 
Scotland should be left to the arbitration of the 
cardinal and the mother of Francis. Although 
this treaty is the only documentary evidence of 
business, the interview afforded opportunities for 
studying the characters of the French statesmen, 
highly important to such a man as Wolsey. He 
never afterwards appears to have trusted the go- 
vernment of Francis, or to have considered France 
fit. to be allied to England, except when she was 
in a reduced condition, and when there was some 
chance that necessity, and the prospect of advan- 
tage, would ensure fidelity. 

XXIV. Before returning home, Henry visited 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 53 

the emperor at Gravellines ; and Charles, next 
day, with his aunt Margaret, regent of the Nether- 
lands, returned this courtesy to the English court 
at Calais, where the shows of the field of gold were 
renewed with new decorations. An amphitheatre, 
eight hundred feet in compass, which was con- 
structed for the occasion, deserves particular men- 
tion, as a proof of the taste and splendour of the 
age. The ceiling was painted in imitation of the 
fabrics of antiquity, and, like them, it was adorn- 
ed with statues and pictures. But the tilts and 
masques were interrupted by a furious storm, 
which extinguished above a thousand of the can- 
dles, and defaced the thrones prepared for the 
princes. — During this visit, Henry endeavoured 
to persuade Charles to accede, as emperor, to the 
league of London, to which he was already a party, 
in his capacity as King of Spain. But, whether 
already contemplating the amount of his means, 
and wishing to be considered as free, or really re- 
garding his former accession as sufficient, admits 
of controversy. Procrastination was one of Charles's 
maxims; and, on this occasion, he could avoid, 
without refusing, the proposition. In the end, 
however, he consented that his first accession should 
remain obligatory on him as emperor. 

XXV. It is of little importance to inquire on 
what pretexts Francis and Charles engaged in 
those terrible wars, which so long after laid waste 
their dominions, and afflicted their subjects. The 



54 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

cause was their personal rivalry. The fervent 
propensities of the French king instigated him to 
be the aggressor. He meditated revenge for the 
success of Charles in the election ; he was ambi- 
tious of renown ; he saw his kingdom circum- 
scribed and invested by the jurisdiction of the man 
who had overtopped his destiny ; and he could not 
refrain from war. But the league of London 
made it expedient, that he should not appear to 
be the first to violate the peace ; for, in that case, 
the King of England and his allies would be 
obliged to assist the emperor. There were, how- 
ever, in the situation of Charles, allurements to 
hostilities which Francis could not withstand. 

XXVI. On the same day that Charles was 
crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, Soliman was inaugu- 
rated at Constantinople ; and, in the astrological 
account of the time, it was remarked, that they 
had a similar ascendant. For Charles was the 
eleventh emperor from Albert, in whose time the 
dominion of the Ottomans commenced, and Soli- 
man was the eleventh sultan of that race. The 
French government, from the ambition and activity 
of Soliman, expected that he would afford ample 
employment to the German forces. The Spa- 
niards, uneasy at the promotion of their king to 
the imperial dignity, aware that, in consequence, 
his residence would rarely be among them, became 
discontented. Foreigners, to the exclusion of 
natives, had been promoted to offices in the state; 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 55 

and, like aliens in all nations, they studied only 
their own advantage.' When Charles departed 
to be crowned emperor, the people openly rebelled, 
assembled the junta to redress their grievances, 
and prepared to defend themselves and the rights 
of their country against the foreigners, but with- 
out renouncing their allegiance to the king. Francis, 
actuated by revenge, by hope, and by the tempta- 
tion of these circumstances, sent an army into 
Navarre. Charles claimed the interference of 
Henry, according to the terms of the League; 
and an embassy was, in consequence, sent from 
London, by which Francis was required to desist 
from hostilities. The invasion of Navarre proving 
disastrous, he complied ; but war had commenced, 
and the emperor finding his means equal, at least, 
to his difficulties, was not disposed to lay aside his 
arms. Francis, therefore, in his turn, as a mem- 
ber of the League, also appealed to England, and 
stated, that he could not avoid war, as the Impe- 
rial armies were constantly augmenting. The 
king answered, that he had resolved to remain 
neutral in the quarrel ; but offered to act as um- 
pire; for which purpose, if Charles and Francis 
would send plenipotentiaries to Calais, Wolsey 
should meet them there, and act in his name, as 
arbiter. This proposal was accepted ; and the 
cardinal went to the place appointed. 

XXVII. Before the congress was opened, the 






56 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

cardinal visited the emperor at Bruges. Charles 
received him, in person, about a mile from the 
town, and entertained him thirteen days as the 
vicegerent of the English king. Every night his 
livery was served by the officers of the emperor 
with an entertainment, which consisted of caudles, 
wine, sugar, and manchet, differing little in its 
circumstances and jollity from the ancient custom 
of welcoming the new year. Wolsey, at all times 
susceptible of the flattery of honourable treatment, 
could not but feel himself gratified ; and his neces- 
sary acknowledgments of politeness were interpret- 
ed by the French as proofs of his disposition to 
comply with the wishes of the emperor. 

XXVIII. The first point to determine was, which 
of the sovereigns began the war, for the King of 
England was bound to aid the injured. Wolsey 
could not but consider Francis as the aggressor. 
The minister of Charles, accordingly, made pro- 
posals not calculated to be accepted. The French 
also offered terms equally inadmissible. After 
spending ten days in fruitless altercation, the 
cardinal declared, that he saw no way of recon- 
ciling the parties. Francis, indeed, though he had 
appealed to Henry, and consented that Wolsey 
should be the arbiter, had really no wish to remain 
at peace. For even while the congress was sitting, 
he permitted the Duke of Albany to depart lor 
Scotland ; although he was bound, by promise 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 51 

and treaty, not to connive at any of his proceed- 
ings, which were held to be adverse to the interests 
of Henry's sister and her family. 

XXIX. Having failed to adjust the difference 
between the rival monarchs, the cardinal, acting 
upon the principles of the great League of Lon- 
don, proposed and concluded a treaty conducive 
to a crusade, which was then projected in order to 
draw the minds of mankind from various anticle- 
rical notions, by which they began about this time 
to be influenced. And because no expedition 
could be undertaken against the Turk, until the 
pride of France was repressed, the pope, the 
emperor, and the King of England, agreed to the 
following articles. When Charles passes to Spain, 
Henry shall give him convoy through the channel, 
with leave to land in England, and honourable 
entertainment while he remains there. When 
Henry passes to Picardy, Charles shall 3 in requital, 
do similar service. If, before the end of the cur- 
rent year, peace be not established between the 
pope, the emperor, and the French king, or if the 
French king begin the war afresh, Henry shall, on 
the arrival of Charles in England, declare himself 
against Francis. In this event, the English fleet, 
having conveyed the emperor to Spain, shall return 
and harass the coasts of France ; and the pope 
shall send forth his curse, and incite the secular 
arm of the Christians against Francis. Between 
Charles, Henry, Leo, and the Medici family, with 



58 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

their several confederates, a reciprocity of protec- 
tion shall be undertaken. And, in order that they 
may avail themselves, as well as the French, of the 
mercenaries of Switzerland, it was agreed, that 
the inhabitants of the Alps should be permitted to 
remain neutral. The secular contrahents under- 
took to maintain the papal pretensions within their 
respective territories, and within any conquests 
that they might obtain during the war. When 
the ambition of France is curbed, the Turk shall 
be attacked ; and no treaty shall, in future, be 
signed by any of the contrahents prejudicial to the 
League of London. It was also agreed that, 
although the Princess of England was betrothed 
to the Dauphin of France, yet, for the public 
good of Christendom, she might be married to the 
emperor ; and the pope consented to dispense 
with the obstacles of their affinity. Before the 
ratification of this treaty the pope suddenly died. 

XXX. Few men have attained to so much fame 
by so little effort as Fope Leo X. His station, 
equanimity, and affable demeanour would, without 
talent, have secured him the admiration of man- 
kind ; yet his mental endowments were such as, 
without the factitious aids of rank and manner, 
might have ensured the respect of the wise and the 
esteem of the virtuous. But indolence overgrew 
his nobler faculties, and induced such a poverty of 
moral honour, that he died an object of pity 
to the good, and of contempt to the profligate 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 59 

His private life was disgraced by sensuality, 
which the incense of poetical adulation has veiled. 
His public conduct was stained by crimes ; 
but their hideousness seems diminished by the 
elegance with which they have been recorded. 
His reign was glorious to Italy, and memorable 
to the world ; bu t the halo around it is the 
lustre of the genius of others. It was his destiny, 
however, to appear at an important epoch, and he 
will always be regarded as the harbinger of the 
great intellectual day. 



BOOK III. 



It is the peculiar quality of true ambition to urge 
its subjects to make themselves illustrious by noble 
actions. The love of distinction alone is but a pe- 
rishable vanity, and without benevolence, the pas- 
sion of adding kingdom to kingdoms is avarice, 
and the achievements of conquerors are crimes of 
the same genus as theft. The fame of no states- 
man can be long venerated, unless connected 
with institutions of utility. Nor is success always 
the criterion of merit, nor essential to reward ; for 
sometimes the motives, as seen in the means of en- 
terprise, so unequivocally indicate honourable in- 
tentions, that renown follows even failure and de- 
feat. In the biography, therefore, of eminent men, 
the peculiar qualities of their ambition should be 
carefully scrutinized, in order to determine, what- 
ever their pretensions may have been, or their con- 
temporaneous popularity, whether they are en- 
titled to the respect of posterity, or ought to be 
classed with those ephemeral characters, who, in 
the applause which followed the fret and strut in 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 61 

their own time, obtained the full measure of hon- 
our due to their deserts. 

II. In the age of Leo X., the church had, in 
England, as elsewhere, attained the extremes of 
her prosperity and power. Her sins and her luxu- 
ries could not be exceeded, nor longer endured. 
The monasteries, exempted from regal and episco- 
pal jurisdiction, and possessing, generally, the pri- 
vilege of sanctuary, their inhabitants did not lan- 
guish for the want of any species of voluptuous 
enjoyment. The doctrine of purgatory supplied 
them with ample resources. The mortmain laws 
but feebly restrained the profusion of post-obit 
diety. To prevent the total alienation of the lands 
to the priesthood, primogenitureship, entails, and 
various other pernicious limitations in the descent 
of property, had been contrived. Blended with 
the feudal system, these checks on ecclesiastical 
usurpation became the basis of the laws which still 
regulate inheritance ; and they are the sources of 
those peculiar restraints on territorial wealth, by 
which the claims of creditors, and the operations of 
equity, are frustrated. The Church, not content 
with the rich accumulation of legacies, invented 
the doctrine of the intercession of saints, and the 
legends of miraculous relics, — the most ingenious 
means of taxation that power has yet applied, or 
audacity ventured to impose. Reason and fancy 
were equally repressed. Sometimes, it is true, the 
dramas, exhibited in the cathedrals, emitted a feeble 
ray of poetical genius in the midst of the most ol> 



62 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

scure logomachies ; but it only served to make the 
surrounding darkness visible. 

III. Henry VII., perplexed by the different 
pretenders to the throne, and particularly by the 
followers of Perkin Warbeck, taking refuge in the 
churches and abbeys, applied to Julius II. for a 
bull to corect the abuse of sanctuary in England. 
His holiness, solicitous of the king's friendship, 
granted the request ; and the bull issued on that 
occasion is the first on record, by which a limit 
was put to a general privilege of the church. To 
disclose the whole turpitude of the ecclesiastical 
abodes of England, and to propose a system of 
gradual reformation, was reserved for Cardinal 
Wolsey. Perceiving that the tendency of opinion 
might undermine the papal structure, unless effec- 
tual means were adopted to restrain the licentious- 
ness of the clergy, he obtained a bull, which con- 
ferred on him a legatine right to visit all the mo- 
nasteries of the realm, and to suspend the ponti- 
fical laws in England at discretion during a whole 
year. His motive at first for seeking this commis- 
sion, was to reduce the swarm of monks, who, 
from the days of the Saxon kings, had continued 
to multiply. He regarded them as consuming lo- 
custs, a reproach to the church, and wasteful to 
the state; and he resolved to convert their habita- 
tions into cathedrals and colleges, with the view of 
restoring the clergy to their ancient mental superi- 
ority. The rumour of an innovation so terrible 



CABDINAL WOLSEY. bS 

alarmed all the ecclesiastical orders. Their clamour 
was loud, incessant, and almost universal. Every 
levity that the upstart reformer had himself com- 
mitted was brought before the public, and magni- 
fied to the utmost ; and, as if it could diminish 
the worthlessness of his brethren, it was alleged to 
be little less than monstrous, that a man so prone 
to the pleasures of life himself, should abridge the 
sensualities of others. Those who were free from 
the reprobate inclinations with which the priest- 
hood were charged in the bull, exclaimed against 
the generality of the charge, and the criminals 
were enraged at the prevention and punishment of 
their infamies. 

IV. By virtue of his commission, Wolsey, as 
legate, instituted a court, which he endowed with 
a censorial jurisdiction over the priesthood. It 
was empowered to investigate matters of con- 
science, conduct which had given scandal, and ac- 
tions, which, though they escaped the law, might 
be found contrary to good morals. The clergy 
furnished abundant employment to this inquisito- 
rial institution ; and, as the fines were strictly le- 
vied, and the awards sternly executed, it enhanced 
their exasperation against the founder. 

V. The same causes which had induced Wolsey 
to attempt a reformation in the manners of the 
English ecclesiastics, had, in other parts of Chris- 
tendom, been long operating to produce similar 
effects. From the election of Alexander VI., the 



64 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

venality and vices of the pontifical government be- 
came' notorious ; and the wars which occupied the 
hearts of the holy fathers from that a?ra, had ex- 
hausted the papal treasury. Leo X., finding the 
ordinary revenues of the popedom insufficient for 
the demands of his political designs and magnifi- 
cent amusements, had, in order to raise money, 
recourse to many fraudulent artifices. Among 
others, he revived those by which Urban II., to- 
wards the close of the eleventh century, incited 
Christendom to arm for the recovery of Palestine. 
His first attempt was rendered abortive by the 
death of Sultan Selim ; but, as all flesh is prone to 
the enjoyments of sin, Leo thought that the sale of 
indulgences would prove a lucrative trade. Auri- 
cular confession was one of the great secrets, by 
which the church had attained and preserved her 
exorbitant domination ; and was rendered com- 
pletely effectual, by the episcopal appointment of 
confessors, selected on account of their devotion 
to the ecclesiastical cause. Sinners often felt the 
hardship of this regulation, and trembled to reveal 
the instigations of young desire, and the levities of 
youthful blood, to an austere and sanctimonious 
old man. Leo therefore thought that freedom in 
the choice of confessors would be a great comfort 
to sinners. Licenses to choose them were accord- 
ingly sold ; but the measure only tended to facili- 
tate the progress of schism and apostacy. Those 
who had begun to suspect the validity of the papal 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 65 

pretensions, and to doubt the efficacy of ecclesiasti- 
cal mediation, took for their confessors priests who 
were inclined to their own opinions. The chiefs of 
the church, in consequence, were neither so early 
nor so well informed of the propagation of heresy as 
formerly, and the danger was far advanced before 
measures could be taken to procure abortion. The 
horrible outrages on humanity which were after- 
wards committed only served to make the catholic 
priesthood of that epoch for ever detestable. 

VI. But although the licenses for choosing con- 
fessors would have gradually accomplished the di- 
minution of the antichristian usurpation, it is pro- 
bable that, without, the conjunction of other more 
immediately decisive events, the Reformation, 
which commenced by the secession of Luther, 
would not have so speedily taken place. The first 
outcry of that arrogant expounder of the benevo- 
lent text and precepts of Christianity was directed 
rather against abuses in the sale of warrants to sin, 
than against the principle on which they were sold # 
Even after he had been provoked to assail the pa- 
pal sacraments, he showed himself still so much 
inclined to maintain exclusive prerogatives to the 
clergy, that it may be fairly questioned whether 
his rebellion against the pope was inspired by re- 
ligious integrity, or by carnal revenge. Luther 
belonged to an order of strolling friars, who were 
employed to sell the indulgences in Germany, but 
who lost this advantage by a grant which Leo X. 



6G CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

made of the profits arising from the sins of Sax- 
ony, to his sister Maddalen and her husband, a 
bastard of Pope Innocent VIII. Punishment, 
among the vulgar, is considered as the proof of 
guilt ; and things tolerated by statutes and prac- 
tice are rarely suspected of being wrong. The 
serviceless pensioners of the Church, the sisters 
and bastards of her princes and ministers, never 
conceived that frauds on mankind collectively were 
of the same degree of moral turpitude as if prac- 
tised against individuals. Persons who would have 
repelled with indignation any proposal to over- 
reach their neighbour, and would have punished, 
with feelings of just indignation, the practices of 
vulgar felons, made no scruple of dilapidating, for 
their own profit, the stock of public wealth. Mad- 
dalen and Cibo appointed an imprudent agent, who 
employed the Dominicans instead of the order to 
which Luther belonged, and they so glutted the 
market, that the trade of indulgences was ruined 
for ever. Powers for delivering souls from pur- 
gatory were openly staked in gaming-houses by 
the inferior miscreants who acted as brokers for 
the sister of the holy father ; and indulgences of 
the most odious description were sold in taverns 
and bagnios. It was therefore not surprising, that 
the conscientious as well as the discontented sub- 
jects of (he pope should openly proclaim the abuses 
of the apostolical government. The advocates of 
existing customs exposed in vain the turbulent 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 67 

self-sufficiency of the reformers ; and recalled to 
remembrance with what constancy of virtue their 
ancestors had reared and supported that venerable 
frame of things which a reprobate generation, ac- 
tuated by a strange phrenzy, was rushing to de- 
stroy. They forgot that the misconduct of advo- 
cates never can impair the principles of a cause. 
But institutions are only improved by the pressure 
of external compulsion. Reformations may be 
ascribed to the wisdom of particular men; but 
they are the effects of remote causes, and extorted 
because the public will not endure the corruptions 
that render them desirable. The ecclesiastical ma- 
chine was rotten. It could no longer perform its 
wonted functions ; and a new one, suitable to the 
improved knowledge of the age, was indispensable. 
The manners of the workmen could neither affect 
the materials of the old, nor the design of the new. 
Among the reformers were many virtuous charac- 
ters; haters of corruption for its own sake, and 
professors of Christianity for a recompense not of 
this world ; nor can it be denied that the church 
of Rome contained many members equally blame- 
less ; but the plunderers of shrines and the burn- 
ers of heretics were not of this description. 

VII. By the plan of ecclesiastical reformation 
which Wolsey adopted, the interference of the 
people was anticipated in England. His legatine 
luthority made him head of the church ; and, as 
chancellor and chief minister, he possessed the effi- 



68 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

cient power of the executive government. Hence 
the Reformation, being undertaken by him, seemed 
to emanate from the crown ; and the nation was 
saved from those dreadful tumults which attended 
the overthrow of popery in other countries, and 
which, though they were provoked by the bigotry 
of prelates and statesmen, were not the less crimi- 
nal against society. The treasures and the costly 
fabrics of the monks should have reverted to the 
commonwealth, when their original destination 
ceased, and the alteration of opinions had super- 
seded their utility. But the incendiary and selfish 
proceedings of the fathers of protestantism must 
be regarded as having been necessary ; and the 
good resulting from their destructive system has 
expiated their guilt. The measures pursued by 
the pope, contrasted with those of Wolsey, show 
the superiority of the Cardinal's character to much 
advantage. Leo, instead of endeavouring to amend 
the errors and vices of the church, punished those 
who exposed them. But the flames of persecution 
aided, as it were, the light of truth, and still more 
.strikingly illuminated the atheistical atrocities of 
the Vatican. Luther was cited to Rome, sus- 
pended from preaching, and excommunicated ; but 
these resolutions only served to magnify his impor- 
tance, and to interest the people in his fate. The 
spirit of controversy, in consequence, seized upon 
all ranks, ages, and sexes, to such a degree, that 
extraordinary celestial aspects, which happened to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 69 

be then observed, were alone supposed adequate 
to produce an effect so general and wonderful ; 
and it has been remarked^ that while the shrines 
were broken in Europe, the altars and the idols of 
Asia and of the ^ew World were also shaken and 
overthrown. 

VIII. Henry caught the enthusiasm of the age, 
and Wolsey was ordered to apply to the pope for 
authority to permit the perusal of Luther's prohi- 
bited writings to such as desired it, for the purpose 
of refuting their errors. Leo readily complied ; 
and, in due season, the king brought forth his 
book on the seven sacraments, — a work which the 
clergy, of course, extolled as the most learned un- 
der the sun. The author was compared to Solo- 
mon, and magnified for wisdom above all Christian 
princes that had ever existed. When this royal 
lucubration was presented to the pope, he made 
no scruple of saying, that he valued it equal to the 
works of St Jerome and St Augustine, — nor even 
at this day may his opinion be questioned ; and, 
with the concurrence of the consistory, he bestowed 
on the author the title of Defender of the Faith, 
as if the truth of the faith required any champion. 
But though the king, in the management of his 
argument, may have shown himself an able divine, 
and superior, as it is said, in the vigour and pro- 
priety of his style, the force of his reasoning, and 
the learning of his citations, yet, as the friar ad- 
dressed himself to the common sense of mankind, 



70 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the practical effects of their writings were very dif- 
ferent. Whether Wolsey actually assisted in the 
composition of Henry's book is doubtful. That 
he was acquainted with its progress, and consulted 
with respect to the execution, is probable. The 
number and extent of his public trusts certainly 
formed sufficient employment for all his time ; but 
as the uncommon elasticity of his mind enabled him 
to pass at once from one kind of business to an- 
other with extraordinary facility, he might occa- 
sionally perform the part of a friendly critic, with- 
out having tnd any particular share in the regular 
labour of the work. 

IX. At the death of Leo X., Wolsey aspired to 
the tiara. How this ambition should ever have been 
regarded as something very iniquitous is difficult 
to understand. It is the means used to procure the 
gratification, and not the passion, which makes 
ambition criminal. But though he was eminently 
qualified for the papal dignity, the Italian cardi- 
nals had strong objections to him on account of his 
country and character. They regarded all fo- 
reigners as barbarians, and dreaded to admit into 
the consistory any person from those distant pro- 
vinces of Christendom, where Rome was regarded 
as the asylum of all that was holy, harmless, and 
undefiled. He had therefore to contend with the 
impediment arising from this prejudice, and with 
the two formidable factions, the Imperial and 
French, which divided the conclave. A still 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 71 

stronger objection, though one that was felt, but 
could not be discussed, arose from his known en- 
deavours to curtail the licentiousness of the clergy. 
But it may be proper to consider, generally, the 
public circumstances which undoubtedly ministered 
to prevent his election. 

X. Besides the personal qualification of the can- 
didates, it was natural for the conclave to consider 
the political interests which respectively they were 
likely to affect. Both the French and Imperial 
factions could not but perceive that the election of 
Wolsey would tend to form a third party, distinct 
from theirs. The menaces of the sultan, and the 
insurgency of the Spaniards, rendered Charles, 
notwithstanding the geographical extent of his ter- 
ritories, barely a match for Francis, whose rounded, 
compact, and populous dominions, enjoyed entire 
tranquillity. The kingdom of Henry, though 
scarcely equal to some of the emperor's provinces, 
was yet, by its insular situation and prosperity, not 
inferior in the balance of power to either. The 
elevation of Wolsey to the papacy would there- 
fore, probably, in the opinion of the cardinals, have 
given an undue preponderance in favour of Eng- 
land ; especially if his character was taken into the 
estimate, and character has always great weight in 
the estimates of contemporary politicians. His 
vast pride, that lofty self-confidence which admit- 
ted of no control, was a topic of detraction through- 
out all Europe. His country made him obnoxious 






72 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

to the French and Imperial factions, and his ex- 
posure of the ecclesiastical corruptions had not 
rendered him acceptable to the general body of the 
priesthood. At the death of Leo, it was obviously 
not the interest of the French to promote a man 
whose views and principles were inimical to Fran- 
cis ; and it was more for the advantage of the Im- 
perialists to choose one of their own party, than 
such a man as Wolsey. Although opposed to each 
other, they were united against him. It was, 
therefore, natural, that, in order to get rid of the 
Cardinal, and since they could not agree upon 
choosing a decisive character from among them- 
selves, they should fix upon one who, by his age 
and neutral qualities, was not likely to impair their 
respective influence. The event took place accord- 
ingly. After the conclave had been closed longer 
than usual, and when there was no likelihood of 
terminating the election in favour of the original 
candidates, a new one was proposed, — Adrian, the 
tutor of Charles, — a man of moderate talents, and 
so far advanced in life that he could not reasonably 
be expected to live long. He was immediately 
elected. His elevation was, in fact, the effect of a 
tacit compromise among all parties ; his age and 
character compensating for the advantage which 
the Imperialists were likely to gain by the event. 
The election was in consequence unanimous, and 
the cardinals, with their usual blasphemy, ascribed 
it to a special interference of the Holy Ghost- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 73 

Whatever Wolsey may have privately felt at being 
disappointed of the honour to which he had aspired, 
the result did not alter the political policy which he 
had previously adopted ; nor is there any proof 
extant, that he did not concur, in opinion, with 
those who suggested the expediency of electing the 
emperor's tutor. Besides, his disappointment must 
have been palliated by the consideration, that Ad- 
rian was a foreigner, and that, by choosing him, 
the door, which had been long shut on the trans- 
alpine clergy, was again opened to them. It could 
not fail to be remarked, that the objection of his 
country would weigh less at the next vacancy, the 
prospect of which, by the infirmities of the new 
pope, was not very distant. It has been alleged 
that Charles did not exert himself on this occasion 
for the advancement of the Cardinal, as he had 
promised ; but the contrary is the fact. It is true 
that his own tutor was preferred, but there is 
little reason to believe that it was by his particular 
interference. 

XI. In the meantime, the domestic administra- 
tion of the Cardinal had been troubled with an un- 
happy event, the trial and execution of Edward 
Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. He was descended 
from a daughter of Thomas of Woodstock, the sixth 
son of Edward III. ; and, consequently, as all the 
legitimate heirs of the five elder brothers, but the 
mother of the king, had been cut off in the civil 
wars, he was next, in line of blood, to the crown, in 



74 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the event of Henry VII.'s family becoming extinct. 
But his chance of rightfully ascending the throne 
was then very remote ; for, besides the Princess 
Mary, then heir apparent, the dowagers of France 
and Scotland had each several children, and, as 
well as the king, they had the hope and prospect 
of more. His revenues were ample, his expendi- 
ture liberal, and, flattered by his inferiors, he mis- 
took the deference paid to the accidents of fortune 
for the assurances of future royalty. Without any 
of those strong and steady talents, which are at 
once the causes and the means of ambition, he was 
deeply imbued with the fatalism which attends that 
imperial passion, and he pried into the undeveloped 
secrets of time with a weak and feminine solicitude. 
The lordliness and lofty genius of the Cardinal, 
overtowering all the courtiers, mortified his pride, 
and rebuked his pretensions. He grudged that a 
man of mean birth should enjoy so much authori- 
ty, and he hated him for being qualified to main- 
tain it. This antipathy, the narrow jealousy of 
aristocratic arrogance, was probably exasperated by 
the contempt with which it was retaliated. 

XII. Among* other things which the duke com- 
es o 

plained of in the administration of the Cardinal 
was, the expensive meeting of the courts of France 
and England. He represented it as a theatrical 
show, by which Wolsey only desired to exhibit to 
the world his influence over the two kings; but, 
being ordered to attend, lie had prepared for the 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 75 

voyage with the magnificence suitable to his rank 
and his fortune. Happening to be ready before 
the court, he went forward to his estates in Kent, 
and dismissed his steward for having vexed and 
oppressed his tenantry. A short time before his 
departure from London, his son-in-law, the Earl 
of Surrey, appointed viceroy of Ireland, had pro- 
ceeded to Dublin. It is necessary to notice this 
circumstance particularly ; because, it has been al- 
leged, that Surrey was sent purposely out of the 
way, that Wolsey might the more easily accomplish 
his machinations for the ruin of Buckingham, al- 
though it was chiefly on the evidence of the steward 
that he was found guilty. 

XIII. In the spring following the interview of 
the kings, and about twelve months after Surrey 
had been sent to Ireland, Buckingham was accused 
of treasonable practices ; arrested, and frequently 
examined, he was impeached, and ordered for trial. 
That he was fairly dealt with in the process can- 
not be denied. The Duke of Norfolk, father of 
his son-in-law, was appointed great steward for the 
occasion ; nor have the other members of the court 
of commission by which he was tried, and which 
consisted of a marquis, seven earls, and twelve 
barons, ever been mentioned as actuated against 
him by any questionable motive. But witnesses 
might be suborned, and the court, though of the 
purest integrity, might hear such assertions in evi- 
dence, that sentence against the victim could not 



X 



76 CARDINAL YTOLSEY. 

possibly be avoided. This, however, has never 
been alleged. It has never been asserted that the 
witnesses were false, although the execution was 
considered as a severity which the actual aggression 
did not merit. He was convicted on charges, which, 
in an age credulous of astrological predictions, and 
at a time when the calamities of the York and 
Lancaster wars were fresh in every memory, ap- 
peared much more heinous than can be conceived, 
without reference to the period in which they were 
made. The turpitude of crimes depends on the 
state of public feeling when they happen to be 
committed. The amount of w r rong does not con- 
stitute the degree of guilt. The estimate which 
society makes of the probable issue of tolerating 
evil actions, constitutes the hideousness of guilt, as 
the horrors of Sin are in the voluminous and loath- 
some length of her extremities. 

XIV. It was proved against Buckingham, that 
he had declared, before the birth of the princess 
Mary, that he considered himself, if the king died 
without issue, as heir to the crown ; that he did 
many things which evinced a traitorous ambition, 
finding mult with the conduct of Henry VII., and 
murmuring against the existing government ; that 
he had dealt with a fortune-telling monk, concern- 
ing his chance of succeeding to the throne, and, 
having confidence in the predictions, had courted 
popularity; that he said to his dismissed steward, 
if he had been committed to the Tower, on account 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 77 

of one of the king^ servants, who had entered 
without leave into his household, and who had 
been convicted of contumacy in the Star-chamber, 
he would have. played the part his father meant to 
have acted against Richard III., when he entreated 
to be brought into his presence. He would have 
stabbed the king as he affected to kneel in homage ; 
and, in telling these words, he grasped his dagger, 
and swore fiercely ; and it was also proved, that 
he had said, if the king died, he would have the 
rule of the realm in spite of all opposition. 

XV. Such is the essence of the charges on which 
he was arraigned. His consultations with the monk 
had taken place many years before, and seem to 
have been brought forward with a view to show 
how long he had cherished such unlawful wishes. 
Treason, though of all crimes the most dreadful, 
is yet, by something either in its magnitude or 
its resemblance to the gallant enterprises of war, 
never considered with those sentiments of detesta- 
tion that acts of inferior guilt inspire ; and a con- 
demned man, whatever may have been his offence, 
is always an object of compassion. In carrying 
the duke through London to the Tower, after his 
doom had been pronounced, the pity of the specta- 
tors would have been excited, even although his 
attendants had not solicited their prayers ; especi- 
ally as h3 had not actually perpetrated any pal- 
pable crime. The lamentations, therefore, which 
accompanied his condemnation and execution, are 



78 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

rather a proof of the generosity of the people and 
of his own popularity, than evidence of innocence, 
or of the machiavelism ascribed by contemporary 
historians to the Cardinal. 

XVI. After Wolsey^s unavailing attempt to re- 
concile Francis and Charles, it was expected that 
the French faction in Scotland, at the head of which 
was the Duke of Albany, would, according to the 
ancient policy of that kingdom, endeavour to dis- 
turb the tranquillity of England, while Henry 
embarked in the war against France. This was 
rendered the more probable, as Queen Margaret, 
in consequence of a domestic disagreement, had 
detached herself from the English party, and open- 
ly declared that she was accessary to Albany's re- 
turn. Prompt measures were therefore necessary 
to frustrate the designs which the regent of Scot- 
land unequivocally meditated. The warden of the 
marches was accordingly commanded to pass the 
borders, and to proclaim that the Scots, in less 
than a month, should desist from their predatory 
inroads and warlike preparations. The regency 
of Scotland disregarded the admonition, and the 
duke, with a numerous army, advanced towards 
the borders. But the barons and chieftains, though 
they had agreed to protect the frontiers of their 
own country, refused to molest the land and sub- 
jects of England. Albany was, in consequence, 
obliged to propose a truee, and to allow his army 
to disperse. Thus disappointed, he suddenly re- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 79 

turned to Paris, in order to concert new measures 
with Francis, who, though menaced on all sides 
by the confederates, continued assiduous in the 
execution of the plans which had originally induc- 
ed him to violate the league of London. 

XVII. Francis had ordered the goods, debts, 
and persons of the English in Bourdeaux to be 
arrested, — an aggression which greatly astonished 
the inhabitants of London, and quickened the in- 
dignation with which his conduct had already in- 
spired the government. The Cardinal instantly, oh 
receiving the news, sent for the French ambassa- 
dor, and expressed, with the utmost acerbity, his 
opinion of Francis and his government, in being 
the first promoters of the league of London, and 
the first who had violated its engagements. 
" Francis,"" said Wolsey, " gave his word to the 
king, when they met inPicardy, that Albany should 
not be allowed to return to Scotland, and yet he 
has sent him there. What sort of a fellow must 
your master be ?" The ambassador was then or- 
dered to keep his house ; and all the French and 
Scots in London were indiscriminately thrown into 
prison. This summary retribution was immediate- 
ly followed by other decisive acts of hostility ; and 
orders were issued to ascertain the population and 
resources of the kingdom, preparatory to the call- 
ing forth of all its power. 

XVIII. The science of political economy, which 
has been so amply elucidated in the course of the 



80 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

eighteenth century, was scarcely known in the 
time of Wolsey. Whatever was raised from the 
people, for the service of the state, was regarded 
as so much subtracted from the wealth of the na- 
tion. The vital energy, which arises from the ge- 
neral interchange of money, commodities, and skill, 
was, like the circulation of the blood, then very 
imperfectly known. Nor was it understood that 
the impoverishment, occasioned by wars, proceeds 
as much from diminishing the number of produc- 
tive labourers, as from the expenditure of treasure. 
It was not the custom for armies to act only 
against armies in those days, but to practise that 
system of levying contributions, which the French 
have, with so much success, resorted to in these. 
Whenever a country was invaded, all within the 
reach of the invader was subjected to his use. The 
inhabitants would have beheld, with as much asto- 
nishment, the enemy paying for provisions, as the 
soldiers would have heard, with indignation, an 
order denying them the privilege of plundering. 
By the feudal obligations, those expenses, which 
constitute the main expenditure of nations, fell 
immediately on the possessors of the soil, before 
the encroachments of the clergy had attached to 
the church the richest domains, and made it no 
longer possible for the secular orders to bear the 
whole charge alone. The ecclesiastics being ex- 
empted from personal service, it became customary 
lor the kings of England to solicit them for pecu- 

G 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 81 

niary aids. But the laymen were still bound to 
furnish arms and soldiers. The public works also 
were, in those days, not constructed at the expense 
of the royal revenues ; but were either paid for by 
local taxes, or executed by a proportional number 
of labourers and mechanics drawn from different 
parts of the kingdom. Many of the civil and judi- 
cial offices were independent of the crown, and at- 
tached to the soil. Property, which is the basis of 
political power, was anciently in England the legal 
and constitutional criterion of intellectual capacity. 
In proportion to the opulence of an estate was the 
extent of the possessor's authority. The disburse- 
ments of the exchequer were consequently only on 
account of the royal household, except when armies 
were transported to the plains of France : on such 
occasions, the preparations for the fleet rendered it 
necessary to solicit benevolences or gifts from the 
priesthood, and all other willing and loyal subjects. 
But this precarious resource was inadequate for 
the exigencies of that wide and extended war, 
which Henry had resolved to wage, in conjunction 
with Charles and his other allies, against Francis. 
The duty therefore which the Cardinal had to per- 
form was the most ungracious that could fall to 
the lot of any minister. Taxation was regarded, 
in some sort, as a heresy in state dogmas ; and that 
complex machinery, by which the vast revenues of 
England are now collected from the rispings and 
friction of industry, was not then invented. Nor 

F 



«2 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

were the objects of the war obvious to the multi- 
tude, while its burdens were greater than any 
other which the English nation had ever before 
sustained. 

XIX. When the feudal system was in its vigour, 
it set bounds to the ambition of kings ; for, al- 
though it enabled them to resist aggression with 
more expedition than any military arrangement 
that has yet appeared, it prevented them from 
combining with so much effect as the later institu- 
tion of standing armies. It was only calculated for 
defensive operations. The limited time which the vas- 
sals were bound to attend the chieftains, accoutred and 
provided for the field, was too short for the execution 
of great schemes of conquest, though sufficient to 
frustrate invasions undertaken by feudal armies. 
But as the system itself fell into decay, forces were 
formed, with commanders distinct from the possess- 
ors of the land, even before any material altera- 
tion took place in the relative condition of the pro- 
vincial states of Christendom. The change, aris- 
ing from the decay, first began to show itself in 
leagues offensive and defensive ; for the preserva- 
tion of which, troops ready for the field became 
requisite, and for their maintenance, the obliga- 
tions of knight-service were commuted for money. 
As the feudal system sunk, the financial rose ; 
and the means were taken from the people of de- 
fending themselves, and placed in the hands of the 
military order. Hence nations, which formerly 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 83 

would have required the efforts of ages to over- 
come, have, in these days, been conquered by re- 
gular armies in a single battle. Under the finan- 
cial system, that country which can support the 
largest standing force must necessarily prevail. 
But, during the ancient state of the European na- 
tions, the farther an invading army advanced, its 
means of annoyance diminished, while those of its 
opponents increased. The case is different when 
the contest lies between two regular armies : the 
inhabitants of the invaded country are defenceless ; 
they trust to their military order, and when it is 
vanquished, they are subdued. The rule becomes 
transferred to the victors, and the people, destitute 
of those standards of local champions, around 
which their ancestors were wont to rally with in- 
vigorated hopes, even after repeated defeats, sub- 
mit without resistance to the decrees of their new 
masters. This state of things can only be abro- 
gated by the renunciation of coalitionary projects ; 
and by each nation constituting within itself a sys- 
tem of defence commensurate to its population. It 
is difficult to understand on what principle of na- 
tural justice one government should link its fate to 
that of another. For what are called the common 
causes of nations, those in which different states, 
with distinct interests and opposite sentiments, 
unite and war against any other particular state, 
must necessarily be unjust, because the very object 
of their coalition is only contingent. Such con- 



84 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tracts, however, as the league of London, which, 
perhaps, ought to be regarded as the grandest mo- 
nument of the comprehensive mind of Wolsey, are 
of a different nature. They are, in some degree, 
to nations, what public statutes are to persons ; 
and their tendency, as was shown in the appeal to 
Henry, and in the meeting of the congress of Ca- 
lais, is manifestly to constitute a tribunal, to which 
states may refer their complaints against the en- 
croachments of one another. 

XX. Scotland, by her alliance with France, 
always reckoned, in the event of war with Eng- 
land, on a powerful diversion being made in her 
favour, by the proximity of the English continen- 
tal dominions to the territories of the French 
kings. And France, in her turn, being conti- 
nually exposed to the pretensions of the warlike 
Plantagenets to her whole crown, calculated on a 
similar advantage, from the borders of Scotland, 
against the very body itself of the English mon- 
archy. This reciprocity of policy formed a strong 
connexion between the courts of Paris and of Edin- 
burgh ; and nothing, prior to the marriage of 
James IV. with the daughter of Henry VII., oc- 
curred to impair its effect. But that marriage, 
and the magnanimity of England after the calamit- 
ous fall of James at Flodden, with the relation- 
ship of his children to Henry, opened the affairs 
and politics of Scotland to the influence of the 
English cabinet. Wolsey availed himself of this 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 85 

circumstance, and the ministers of Queen Elizabeth 
perfected the systematic interference which he so 
successfully commenced. Improbable as it ought 
to be, that persons, belonging to that high class 
which is particularly intrusted with the sacred cus- 
tody of the honour and independence of their 
country, should, for selfish purposes, enter into a 
corrupt correspondence with the minister of a fo- 
reign state, there are numerous documents extant 
which prove the venality of Scottish peers and pre- 
lates, and their subserviency to Cardinal Wolsey. 
From the period of the battle of Flodden, and the 
meeting of the congress at Calais, a greater predi- 
lection towards England was formed within the 
bosom of Scotland than had existed since the time 
of Edward I. From the date of the battle, the 
French influence began to decline. During the 
Cardinal's administration it was rendered almost 
nugatory ; for when it did happen to succeed to a 
certain extent, its schemes, by some secret skilful 
management, suddenly dissolved in the moment of 
parturition, and disappointed the hopes of those 
who had conceived them. 

XXI. The time which the emperor had fixed 
for his second visit to England, and for which he 
had made stipulations in the treaty concluded by 
Wolsey at Calais, was now arrived. A number of 
persons, of the first rank, were in consequence sent 
to attend him across the Channel ; and the Cardi- 
nal, with a sumptuous train of ecclesiastics, re- 



86 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

ceived him again at Dover. The king, as on his 
former visit, met him in the castle, and thence con- 
ducted him to the palace of Greenwich. On 
Whitsunday, he went to St Paul's with the court ; 
and the Cardinal performed the service with a de- 
gree of ostentatious pomp never surpassed by the 
popes themselves. Two barons held the basin and 
towel before the mass ; two earls after the gospels ; 
and two dukes served him at the last lavation. 
When Charles was soon after instituted a knight 
of the garter, he received the sacrament with Hen- 
ry ; and they vowed, together, kneeling at the al- 
tar, to maintain inviolate a treaty which had been 
previously drawn up, and which, from the place of 
ratification, was called the treaty of Windsor. 

XXII. By this contract it was declared, that 
hostilities having arisen between the emperor and 
the French king, they had, as contrahents of the 
league of London, applied to the King of Eng- 
land, who, to compose their differences, had sent 
Cardinal Wolsey to Calais, and it was proved, that 
the aggressions had first been committed by the 
French. Wolsey failing to effect a reconciliation, 
and Francis having violated his faith to Henry by 
sending the Duke of Albany to Scotland, and also 
by molesting the English trade, it was agreed that 
Charles and Henry should unite in the prosecution 
of the war against France ; and, in order to render 
their alliance the more effectual and permanent, 
it was likewise agreed that Charles should, in due 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 87 

time, be married to the Princess Mary, or forfeit 
five hundred thousand crowns if he failed in this 
engagement. The daughter of Henry had for- 
merly been betrothed to the unborn heir of Fran- 
cis, but the occurrence of war had dissolved that 
contract. The most remarkable article, however, 
in the treaty of Windsor, is an agreement on the 
part, respectively, of the two sovereigns, to consti- 
tute Cardinal Wolsey judge and arbiter of their 
differences ; and they empowered him to pro- 
nounce the sentence of excommunication on the 
first that infringed the articles of the contract. 

XXIII. During the emperor's residence in Eng- 
land, Henry set no limits to his munificence: a 
continual succession of those gorgeous entertain- 
ments, in which he himself so much delighted, 
afforded to his guest opportunities of practising 
that meretricious affability which captivates the 
affections of the vulgar ; while he secured by gifts 
and vails a lease of the good-will and praise of the 
courtiers. Surrey was recalled from Ireland to be 
employed in the war. It was alleged, that be- 
tween him and Wolsey there was a secret anti- 
pathy. If this was the case, the conduct of the 
Cardinal was certainly magnanimous towards this 
courageous and decisive man. He kept him 
employed in situations of the highest trust, and 
enabled him to acquire that lofty renown, which 
still exhibits him to posterity as one of the greatest 
warriors that England has produced. He was, 



88 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

at this time, appointed admiral of the combined 
English and Imperial fleet, from which, while the 
emperor was with the king, he made two descents 
on the coast of France, and returned with much 
booty. He afterwards conveyed the emperor to 
Spain with a fleet of one hundred and eighty men 
of war, the largest that had ever before departed 
from the shores of England. 

XXIV. It has been said, that, although Charles 
appeared to treat Wolsey with so much deference, 
one of the objects of his visit was to ingratiate 
himself more intimately with Henry, and to acquire 
an interest in his affections beyond the influence of 
the favourite. But this is not probable. The 
visit had been concerted by Wolsey himself, and 
nothing had occurred which could induce the em- 
peror to expect, or to desire, a change in the 
councils and system of England. It is true, that, 
at this period, the active genius of the Cardinal 
was felt throughout all Europe ; and that he arro- 
gated a degree of mastery over the particular 
affairs of England, which the constitution was not 
supposed to have vested, even then, in the prero- 
gatives of the crown. But Henry, always fervent 
in his attachments, was proud of the great qualities 
and zeal of his minister, and alike regardless of the 
insinuations of envy, the venom of malice, and the 
craft of diplomatic depravity. He had too much 
discernment not to perceive the blemishes of Wol- 
sey'fi character, his surpassing ostentation, pride of 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 89 

superiority, and love of luxury ; but these spots 
were lost in the lustre of his general merits. 

.XXV. Surrey, after conveying the emperor to 
Spain, landed on the coast of France a force of 
about seven thousand men, who plundered the 
town, and destroyed the ships, in the harbour of 
Morlaix. Having re-embarked, he came to Cowes, 
in the Isle of Wight, where he conferred the hon- 
our of knighthood on several officers who had sig- 
nalized themselves in that exploit; for the prac- 
tices of chivalry still prevailed, and knights in 
arms were qualified to dub the distinguished sol- 
dier on the field. 

XXVI. The war^ in the meantime, against 
Francis, was resolved to be prosecuted at all points. 
Orders were issued to ascertain the full strength of 
the kingdom. An exhibition was made of all the 
arms ; the number of persons above the age of 
sixteen was reckoned ; and the names of the lords 
of manors, as well as of all the beneficed clergy, 
were taken. Aliens were, at the same time, obliged 
to register with the magistrates an account of their 
families, their professions, and the occasion of their 
residence in England. The result enabled the 
Cardinal to know the extent of his resources ; and, 
in order to avail himself of them, the Convocation 
and Parliament were summoned to meet. 

XXVII. The Convocation of the clergy an- 
ciently consisted of two chambers like the Parlia- 
ment. In the upper, sat the archbishops, bishops, 



90 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

and mitred abbots ; and in the lower, the deans 
with the inferior graduates. With the king's writ 
for calling the Parliament, an order was sent to 
the archbishops to summon the Convocation, but 
the day of meeting was not mentioned in the royal 
order. The clergy, affecting to be independent of 
the crown, did not choose that it should appear 
that they were particularly controlled in the as- 
sembling of the Convocation. The will of the 
king, as to the day of meeting, was, in conse- 
quence, privately communicated to the archbishops, 
who, in their writs, informed their respective pro- 
vinces when and where to assemble. On this oc- 
casion, Wolsey, by virtue of his legantine superi- 
ority, regulated the Convocation. The clergy 
met according to the summons of the archbishops 
in St Paul's, London ; but the Cardinal obliged 
them to adjourn their meeting to Westminster 
Abbey, where he explained to them the causes 
which required their attention and deliberation. 

XXVIII. He expatiated on the obligations which 
the church lay under to the king, for suppressing 
the schism which was likely to have arisen in the 
days of Julius ; but particularly for that excellent 
book which he had written in defence of the faith, 
and which they had all so becomingly declared to 
be inestimable. " Now," said the Cardinal, " as 
he is engaged in a war with the French king, who 
has sent the Duke of Albany into Scotland to in- 
vade England from that quarter, it is proper that 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 91 

his clergy should show the sincerity of their grati- 
tude, and prove themselves sensible of the happi- 
ness of having such a sovereign, by granting him 
something, as much beyond all precedent as they 
have affirmed that he has transcended all kings." 
He concluded by proposing, that they should en- 
gage to pay him yearly, for five years, a sum equal 
to the tenth part of their incomes. The opulent 
prelates of Rochester and Winchester opposed the 
motion. They represented it as an unheard-of ex- 
tortion, which it was not possible for the clergy to 
pay and live. Wolsey, however, was not daunted. 
By practising the common modes of managing de- 
liberate bodies ; by corrupting some, and contriv- 
ing occasions of absence for others, he secured a 
majority of votes, and, in the end, was victorious. 
All natives who held benefices were to pay ten per 
cent., and all foreigners twenty per cent. A few 
celebrated men were placed on a footing with the 
natives ; among whom Erasmus and Polydore Vir- 
gil were mentioned with distinction. This is a sin- 
gular fact, and proves the estimation in which the 
characters of those eminent authors were then held. 
But the general host of ecclesiastics regarded the 
conduct of the Cardinal, on this occasion, as scarce- 
ly less tolerable than in the institution of his lega- 
tine court ; and they were only content to pacify 
their indignation by obtaining an exemption of 
their means from secular investigation, — an exemp- 



92 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tion which, having been stipulated, was, probably, 
not originally intended to have been allowed. 

XXIX. In the Parliament the Cardinal was not 
so successful. The members of that venerable 
body obliged, by the rated valuation of their lands, 
to provide proportioned quantities of the materiel 
of war, in common with all the other lay proprie- 
tors, and having no means of indemnity for their 
individual contributions, either in colonial or re- 
venue offices, or contracts, or army promotions, or 
any of those numerous modes of recompensing 
themselves for their share of the public burdens, by 
which, in later times, such miracles in finance have 
been performed, were not so easily swayed by the 
energy of the minister's eloquence. When the 
customary ceremonies at the opening of Parliament 
were over, the Cardinal, attended by several of the 
peers and prelates, bearing a verbal message from 
the king, entered the House of Commons, and ad- 
dressed the speaker on the expediency of granting 
supplies adequate to the vigorous prosecution of 
the war. When he had retired, a long debate en- 
sued, which terminated in a resolution to grant 
only half the sum demanded. Wolsey, on hearing 
this, went a second time to the house, and request- 
ed to hear the reasons of those who opposed the 
motion. But the speaker informed him, that it 
was the order of the house to hear, but not to rea- 
son, except among themselves. The Cardinal then 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 93 

repeated what he had before said on the subject, 
and endeavoured to convince the members, that 
what was required for the public service ought 
not to be considered as subtracted from the wealth 
of the nation. The war, however, being one of 
policy, and not in revenge for injury received, nor 
to avert any visible danger, the commons were re- 
solute, and only granted about five per cent, on 
certain incomes for five years, instead of double 
that sum, which the minister had requested. 

XXX. But even the reduced grant was loudly 
complained of, and the people universally repined 
that their means and properties should be subject 
to the investigation of the collectors of the tax. 
Deputations from the merchants of London waited 
on the Cardinal, and begged him to consider, that 
the richest merchants were often bare of money ; 
and they entreated that they might not be sworn 
as to the value of their property, for the valuation 
was necessarily doubtful, and many an honest man's 
credit was better than his substance. " To make 
us swear," said they, " will expose us to commit 
perjury." " The dread of committing perjury," 
said Wolsey, " is, at least, a sign of grace ; but 
you should give the king some proof of your loy- 
alty. You see what costly armies are preparing 
for France and Scotland ; and these he cannot 
maintain unless you give him assistance, and we 
know that you can afford to do it very well. On 
Saturday next I will, therefore, send into the city 



94 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

a person to receive estimates of your means ; and 
let such of you as have more credit than property 
come privately to me, and I will take care that he 
shall not be injured. ,, The merchants departed, 
muttering against the minister, who, as he had 
threatened, sent his secretary to St Paul's to re- 
ceive the estimates of the citizens, without oaths. 

XXXI. During these transactions with the 
Convocation, the Parliament, and the people, a re- 
markable event occurred, which claimed the parti- 
cular attention of Wolsey, and enabled him, as in 
the business of the income-tax, to afford a prece- 
dent for future ministers in revolutionary times. 
The crown of Denmark was not then hereditary. 
The inheritance was limited to one family, but the 
son was not regularly the successor of the father. 
The monarchy was elective, but it was requisite 
that the candidates should be of the royal family. 
The prerogative of election was also limited to a 
certain number of persons, and the heir was chosen 
during the lifetime of the king. This form of con- 
stitution prevailed anciently over all the northern 
nations of Europe ; nor was the law confined to 
crowns, but extended over the inferior orders of 
the state in the Gothic nations. It preceded the 
law of tenures ; and, when the feudal system was 
falling into decay, some remains of it could be 
traced in the customs of tanistry, which, even in 
the time of Queen Elizabeth, existed in those 
parts of Ireland to which that system had never 

2 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 95 

been extended. Christern II., who married the 
emperor's sister, Isabella, and niece to the Queen 
of England, was at this time King of Denmark. 
Daring the life of his father, and while only seven 
years old, he had been elected to succeed to the 
crown. Whether this was considered by the elec- 
tors as a favour which entitled them to impose new 
restrictions on the royal prerogatives, or that the 
old king, with a view of laying the foundations of 
a regular hereditary succession in his own family, 
had conceded that his son should be more limited 
in power than his predecessors, is of no importance 
to ascertain ; but Christern, after his accession, 
thought, as the restraints upon him were greater 
than customary on the kings of Denmark, and 
having been incurred without his consent, that he 
was not bound to abide by them. Instead, how- 
ever, of resigning the crown, as he therefore ought 
to have done, he so acted, that the electors were 
obliged to declare, that he had violated the condi- 
tions on which he held it. In consequence, they 
proclaimed the throne vacant, and elected his 
uncle into the sovereignty. 

XXXII. Christern left the country, with his 
family, and took refuge in the Netherlands, ex- 
pecting, from the powerful relations of his wife, 
such assistance as might enable him to recover the 
throne. They afterwards came over to England, 
and were received by the court with the distinction 
due to them as the near relations of the queen. 



96 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Upon his soliciting aid, however, the Cardinal ad- 
vised him to repair without delay to his patrimo- 
nial dominions, and try to recover the good opi- 
nion of the Danes, and a reconciliation with his 
enemies in Denmark. He assured him that Henry 
and Charles would use their best persuasion, both 
by letters and ministers, to the electors, the new 
king, and the influential lords of the realm, to pro- 
cure his restoration ; and that out of the respect 
which Henry had for Isabella, his niece, he would 
as an inducement offer to guarantee to the Danish 
states, the reformation of those abuses of which 
they complained, and for which they had deposed 
him. The Cardinal also added, that the English 
residentiary at Rome should be immediately in- 
structed to apply to the pope for his interposition, 
by briefs and exhortations, in order to accomplish 
the restoration. " But if these fair and equitable 
means fail of effect, then others shall be tried ; 
for it is disreputable,"" said he, " to reason and 
good sense, that a prince should, by the wilfulness 
of his lords and commons, be expelled from his 
kingdom, without having first given an answer to 
a statement of their grievances. With these as- 
surances, Christern departed, and Wolsey imme- 
diately concerted the means for realizing the ex- 
pectations he had thus cherished ; but in the end 
the cause was necessarily abandoned. 

XXXIII. The Danish revolution not being fol- 
lowed with any effect on the affairs of Europe, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 97 

with which Wolsey was particularly engaged, is 
chiefly remarkable on account of the insight which 
it affords to the Cardinal's political notions. His 
expressions on the occasion are, indeed, so extra- 
ordinary, considering his situation, and the period 
in which he lived, that if he had not, under his 
own hand, furnished the record, they might justly 
be questioned, having never before been particu- 
larly noticed by any historian. In the reign of 
Henry VIII. the right of blood does not appear to 
have been considered as essential in the succession ; 
for he was allowed to dispose of the crown by will, 
and actually excluded his eldest sister's heirs from 
the right of succeeding. The English constitution, 
indeed, appears generally to have very distinct- 
ly recognised the supreme and ultimate authority 
of the people, and to have held the monarchs en- 
titled to the throne only so long as they fulfilled 
their engagements. The opinion of Wolsey as to 
the obligation of kings, and the power of lords and 
commons, is now an acknowledged maxim both in 
the theory and practice of the legislature. 

XXXIV. While the preparations for the war 
were vigorously undertaken by Henry, Adrian, 
who had filled the papal throne with more innocence 
and less talent than either Julius or Leo, having 
ineffectually endeavoured to reconcile the bellige- 
rent potentates, was induced to break from the 
neutrality which he had assumed at his election, 
and to become a member of the confederacy against 



98 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Francis. But he had not long done this when he 
fell sick and died. The Cardinal, on being informed 
of his death, immediately wrote to the king, who was 
then on one of his country excursions, and solicited 
his assistance, and also his influence, with the empe- 
ror to procure the papacy. In the event of Wolsey 
not succeeding, the English government were de- 
sirous that Juliode Medicishould be preferred; and, 
from the sequel, it appears, that a reciprocity of ad- 
vantagehad been previously concerted between these 
two candidates, in the event of either being elected. 
XXXV. The cardinals at Rome, after spend- 
ing fifty days in the conclave, were not likely to 
come to any decision ; so that the Holy Ghost was 
again obliged to interfere, and the election, of 
course, was unanimous. Julio was chosen, and 
assumed the title of Clement VII. It has been, 
almost uniformly, since alleged, that Charles had 
particularly engaged to use his utmost influence to 
promote Wolsey to the apostolical dignity; but there 
is no allusion to any such engagement in their cor- 
respondence on that subject. The previous under- 
standing, however, between Julio and Wolsey is 
less equivocal ; for as soon as possible after his 
election, the pope appointed the Cardinal legate 
for life, and conferred on him all the papal preten- 
sions over England which he could alienate ; sanc- 
tioning, in every other respect, the measures which 
he had adopted for the reformation of the clergy 
within his jurisdiction. The character of Clement 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 99 

for talent stood high in the world. During the 
pontificate of his kinsman Leo, he had been in- 
trusted with the chief administration of the papal 
affairs, and had acquired the reputation of being 
ambitious and innovating, which raised at his elec- 
tion a general expectation of great changes. The 
world, however, was mistaken : many of the mea- 
sures which had been attributed to him were sug- 
gested by the more capacious, but indolent, Leo. 
He was, in fact, but an ordinary man, in whom the 
constitutional qualities of gravity, temperance, and 
assiduity were more remarkable than the faculties 
which originate and direct speculative undertakings. 
XXXVI. About the period of Adrian's death, 
the Duke of Bourbon, high constable of France, 
declared himself in rebellion against his king. Pri- 
vate animosities had long rendered him adverse to 
Francis ; and the English and Imperial cabinets, 
aware of his disposition, incited him to the decisive 
step which he took at this time. The price which 
they at first offered for his treachery had been re- 
jected ; but an accumulation of petty circumstances 
influenced his resentment, and the terms being 
made more acceptable, he was induced to enter 
into the service of Charles. Bourbon was a plain 
and gallant soldier; his enmity to Francis arose 
from the frankness of his nature, and the want of 
that dissimulation which, while it degrades the 
man, rarely fails to exalt the courtier. In the out- 
line of his talents he resembled Surrey, then the 



100 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

hero of England ; but, with all the qualities which 
recommended him to the affections of his compa- 
nions in danger, Bourbon was deficient in self-con- 
trol. The principles of loyalty were, in that age, 
weak among military men, and renown in arms 
was a higher aim than patriotism. Bourbon must 
ever be regarded as a traitor to his country ; but 
his crime, in the opinion of his contemporaries, ad- 
mitted of a more liberal construction. 



BOOK IV. 



The administration of Cardinal Wolsey now pre- 
sents a various and busy scene. The principal 
actors have been introduced ; and the secret move- 
ments and the circumstances which, in the end, 
conspired to hasten on the catastrophe, have all 
been unfolded. The narrative of future transac- 
tions will therefore proceed rapidly ; and, in the de- 
tail of the military events, only those incidents shall 
be noticed which serve to illustrate the state of so- 
ciety and the peculiarities of individual character. 
The active operations in the field, and the eager 
controversies of the Reformation, excited the public 
mind to an impassioned degree, and the imagina- 
tions of men were infected with fearful predictions. 
Astrologers denounced deluges and devastations ; 
but the deluges were the blood of mankind, and 
the devastations proceeded from the sword. 

II. In the autumn of 1523, the Duke of Suf- 
folk was appointed to the command of an army 
sent to invade France, and joined the Count de 



108 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Bure in Picardy. Francis was at Lyons, on his 
way to Italy, when informed of the invasion, 
which, by the junction of the English and Impe- 
rialists, was more formidable than he had previous- 
ly reason to expect. The allies, leaving the forti- 
fied towns unassailed, marched directly towards 
Paris. The whole kingdom was astonished. All 
the troops hurried to the capital. The recruits, 
then ascending the Alps, hastily returned to pro- 
tect their homes. But a premature winter proved 
more efficient than preparations dictated by con- 
sternation and fear. The allies were compelled to 
halt ; their provisions became exhausted, and the 
cold was so intense that no creature could with- 
stand its severity. Wolsey, however, was desirous 
that the troops should still keep the field, and, by 
the practice of an evasive warfare, deter Francis 
from re-enforcing his army in Italy. The priva- 
tions however of the ill-provided Imperialists were 
so extreme, that the officers consented that the sol- 
diers should disband themselves ; and Suffolk, in 
consequence, sending his men into winter-quarters, 
returned to England without having accomplished 
any other object than suspending the march of the 
re-enforcements destined to strengthen the French 
army in Italy. The miserable and helpless con- 
dition of the Imperial troops made a deep impres- 
sion on the mind of the Cardinal ; and he express- 
id himself on the failure of the campaign, as if he 
thought the emperor undervalued the exertions of 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 103 

England, or calculated on supporting his army at 
her expense. 

III. The Earl of Surrey had been ordered from 
the fleet, and sent to command the troops on the bord- 
ers of Scotland. The records of his operations there 
present an awful picture of that unsparing desola- 
tion which so long spread a lonely barrier of heaths 
and moors between the habitable tracts of the sis- 
ter kingdoms. During the summer, he ravaged 
all the Merse and the dale of Tweed, leaving nei- 
ther castle, village, tree, cattle, nor corn. The in- 
habitants abandoned the country to the marauders : 
some fled into England in the most calamitous state 
of distress. The bread which they craved, instead 
of repairing their strength, was devoured with such 
rapacious hunger, that it only hastened their death. 
Among other places that suffered severely, Jed- 
burgh, then much larger than Berwick, was taken, 
and the fortifications thrown down. On the night 
of the sack, a party of the English horse, lying in 
or without the camp, were seized with some unac- 
countable panic, and ran about in all directions. 
The soldiers started to arms. The flames of the 
burning town threw a wild and troubled light on 
the tumult. Surrey, in giving an account of this 
affair to Wolsey, says, that seven times that night 
spirits and terrible sights were visible. 

IV. Clement, after his election, refused to ac- 
cede to the league of Calais; and declared his 
intention of remaining neuter in the quarrels be- 



104 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tween Charles and Francis. At this time, Bour- 
bon commanded the Imperial army in Italy. The 
emperor, designing to draw supplies from the Ita- 
lian powers with whom he was allied, as he did 
from England in the campaign in Picardy, left 
Bourbon and the troops without money. This 
sordid craft obliged the general to levy a contribu- 
tion on the inhabitants of Milan, which, with other 
money that he secretly persuaded the pope and 
Florentines to lend, enabled him to take the field 
in the spring of 1524, with about five and thirty 
thousand men. The French army was as much 
impoverished as the Imperial ; a band of the mer- 
cenary Switz, finding they were not likely to be 
paid, having deserted, the French general resolved 
to repass the mountains. Hearing of his retreat, 
Bourbon pursued. Between the Imperial van and 
the rear of the fugitives several interesting skir- 
mishes took place ; but the French crossed the 
Alps without coming to a general battle. The 
Milanese towns, however, in which they had left 
garrisons, readily surrendered to the Imperialists. 
V. The duchy of Milan being thus rescued, 
Charles refused to invest Francisco Sforza with 
the dukedom, although he had previously acknow- 
ledged his claim. This, with other manifestations 
of a grasping nature, inspired the pope with an. 
prehensions, and he suspected that the emperor 
meditated against Italy the same designs which 
Francis had been compelled to relinquish. The 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 105 

papal nuncio at the court of London was, in con- 
sequence, instructed to attempt the reconciliation 
of France and England. But Henry, at this 
period, cherished the hope of giving substantial 
validity to the title of the King of France ; and 
Wolsey did not consider that presumptuous nation 
yet sufficiently humbled. The papal mediation 
therefore failed ; and new arrangements were con- 
certed with Charles for the vigorous prosecution 
of the war. Calculating on success, it was resolved 
that Provence and Dauphine should be erected into 
a kingdom for the Duke of Bourbon, who was to 
hold it in fee of Henry, and that the other provinces 
should be restored to the English crown, with the 
exception of Burgundy, which was to be appro- 
priated to Charles. The emperor engaged to fur- 
nish a powerful army to reduce Provence ; and to 
the maintenance of this force, England agreed to 
contribute a hundred thousand crowns monthly, 
unless the king himself invaded France with his 
own troops in person. 

VI. Bourbon, continuing to prosecute his suc- 
cessful pursuit, entered Provence, took possession 
of Aix, and laid siege to Marseilles. The garrison, 
being previously re-enforced, gallantly resisted ; 
and Francis, advancing rapidly, raised the siege. 
It was now the end of autumn, and the Imperialists 
in turn retreating, the French followed to recover 
Milan. Bourbon, aware of the design of Francis, 
made surprising exertions. Having re-enforced Pa- 



106 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

via, and taken all the precautionary measures 
which the hurry of retreat permitted, he continued 
to retire upon Italy. The French, soon masters 
of the town of Milan, proceeded to invest Pavia. 
Francis, deficient in military genius, forgot that 
success in war, as in all human undertakings, de- 
pends upon the undivided application of means, 
and occupied his attention with objects that ought 
only to have been contingent. He detached a large 
body of troops towards Naples, by which the 
strength of his army before Pavia was essentially 
reduced ; but as it was still superior in number to 
the garrison, he continued the siege. 

VII. The condition of the Scottish government 
at the close of the year 1524, and during these mo- 
tions in Italy, was truly deplorable. Faction vio- 
lated patriotism ; and the nation seemed devoted to 
be so easy a prey to her neighbour, that it is difficult 
to account for the forbearance of the English go- 
vernment at this time, upon any other principle, 
than that Henry regarded Scotland rather as the 
private estate of his sister's family, than as the rival 
of England. A kind of domestic interest pervades 
the public correspondence of the two courts ; and 
this intimacy and affection promised to become 
closer, by a proposition from the Scots to unite their 
young king, James V., to his cousin Mary, the 
English heiress. Charles, alarmed when he heard 
of the matrimonial proposal from Scotland, al- 
though secretly negotiating a marriage for himself 

7 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 107 

with the princess of Portugal, sent ambassadors to 
London, in order to request that Mary might be 
delivered to him, according to the terms of the 
treaty, by which they were regarded as affianced. 
His affairs at this time were far from prosperous in 
Italy ; and Solyman, the sultan, obtaining posses- 
sion of Belgrade, menaced Hungary, and seemed 
to be rapidly opening a passage into the very bosom 
of Christendom. It was also reported that the 
pope had allied himself with the French king ; so 
that at this period the emperor, when he regarded 
the situation of his affairs in Italy, and the ambition 
of the Turk, had reason to be anxious to preserve 
his alliance with Henry. Nor were the politics of 
England less unclouded. The conduct of the em- 
peror had not been satisfactory. The Spaniards, 
eloquent in words, were dilatory in action ; and the 
Cardinal, in his correspondence, could not disguise 
his contemptuous Opinion of their sober and drib- 
bling wars. The behaviour of the pope was great- 
ly suspicious. It was rumoured, that the repub- 
lic of Florence and the Tuscan territory were to 
be converted into a kingdom for the Medici, and 
to be called Etruria. The minds of men were agi- 
tated with polemical controversies ; all was obscure, 
ominous, and perplexed. 

VIII. At this epoch, Wolsey drew up a mas- 
terly view of the moral and political state of Eu- 
rope, which he requested the English minister at 
Rome to lay before the pope. He represented, in 



108 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 

strong terms, the evils that must inevitably ensue 
to Christendom, if his holiness, while the opinions 
of Luther infected every country, studied, as was 
reported, only the selfish aggrandisement of his 
own family and kindred. He set forth the ex- 
ample of disinterestedness which the English king 
had shown to all princes, in suspending his private 
rights and pretensions to France, in order to pro- 
mote the general welfare of the Christian world. 
He pointed out the confidence which had been 
given to his holiness ; and the expectation cherish- 
ed, that his pontificate would prove renowned, by 
the removal of abuses, and the renovation of the 
papal dignity, which had been so visibly stricken 
by the wrath of Almighty God, since the heads of 
the church had become parties in the projects of 
secular princes. He warned his holiness not to 
offend the emperor, in whose dominions the Lu- 
theran heresies were so rife ; and expatiated on 
the damage and detriment which the papacy must 
suffer, if the French king succeeded in his notori- 
ous designs ; for not only the Imperial dominions, 
but also England, and, in the end, possibly, even 
France herself, might renounce the apostolical 
authority, to the everlasting shame and dishonour 
of Clement. 

IX. The part which Henry had taken in the 
wars was exceedingly disagreeable to his own sub- 
jects. They murmured at the requisite taxes, and 
that Bourbon, a Frenchman, should be, in some 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 109 

measure, employed by their king; nor could they 
conceive in what manner the interests of England 
were to be promoted, either by the subjugation, or 
the rescue of Italy, a remote country. The con- 
duct of Charles also dissatisfied the merchants. 
His cruisers molested their vessels ; and he had 
raised the price of English money in his do- 
minions, by which the value of their commodities 
was depreciated. The king himself began to be 
dubious of the emperor's integrity ; and the whole 
tenor of the Cardinal's correspondence, at this pe- 
riod, indicates distrust, while he suggests many 
expedients for bringing the war to a speedy con- 
clusion. Louisa, the mother of Francis, having 
been appointed regent of France during the ab- 
sence of her son, being apprised of the altered dis- 
position of the English cabinet, sent a monk se- 
cretly to Wolsey, to ascertain how far an offer of 
peace was likely to prove acceptable. But the 
monk being unauthorised to propose any basis of 
negotiation, the Cardinal said, shortly, that if the 
French government was sincere in its desire for 
peace, it should deal more frankly, and send per- 
sons of more consequence, and with fuller creden- 
tials, to Charles, as well as to Henry. The monk 
begged to be informed, what the King of England 
might demand for his part. " The whole realm 
and crown of France," said the Cardinal, " witli 
Normandy, Gascoignc, Guycn, and other depen- 
dencies, his rightful patrimony, so long withheld 



110 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

by the French kings. What have you to say that 
he should not have all his claims ?" The monk 
answered, that he was not instructed to speak on 
such matters, but he would relate to the regent 
what had passed, and he thought she would send 
ambassadors, properly accredited, both to the em- 
peror and to the King of England. Although 
this interview lasted only about half an hour, 
and the monk, immediately after, was conveyed 
out of the kingdom, it was not so secret, but that 
some notion of its purport spread abroad, and, 
like all other rumours, received various additions, 
and underwent several transformations, in the 
course of repeating. 

X. The Imperial minister, a man who scrupled 
not to aggrandise the reputation of his abilities at 
the expense of others and of truth, had frequent- 
ly, in communicating to his master the details of 
his transactions with the Cardinal, represented, as 
the results of his own address and skill, those mea- 
sures in the war, which were suggested and plan- 
ned within the English cabinet. Wolsey was in- 
formed of this diplomatic artifice, and marked, by 
his contemptuous manner, how much he despised 
the man. The ambassador, irritated by this treat- 
ment, vindictively misrepresented to his govern- 
ment the conduct of the Cardinal, and particular- 
ly with respect to the mission of the monk ; of 
which, instead of sending a fair statement of the 
facts, he transmitted a garbled account of the 



CARDINAL WOLSEY, 111 

popular rumour. But the clandestine manner 
which he took to send these perfidious despatches 
led to the exposure of his character. 

XI. One evening, soon after the French emis- 
sary had been with the Cardinal, a ward and watch 
of citizens, as was then frequently the custom, 
happened to be held in the city and environs of 
London. About midnight, a man on horseback 
was seized by one of the patrol, on the road to 
Brentford ; and being questioned as to his jour- 
ney, he answered so equivocally, that he was car- 
ried to the guard-house, where he was searched, 
and the Imperial minister's despatches were found 
concealed in his clothes. The watchmen, unable 
to read the address of the packet, carried it to an 
attorney's clerk, who belonged to their party, and 
the seal being broken, he found that it contained 
letters written in cipher. The clerk gave it to the 
king's solicitor, who was also on guard that night. 
He, conceiving that the letters must, necessarily, 
be of importance, delivered them to Sir Thomas 
More, who lived at Chelsea, and belonged to ano- 
ther company of the nightly watch. Next morn- 
ing Sir Thomas gave them to the Cardinal in the 
court of Chancery. Wolsey, it would appear, was 
acquainted with the Imperial ciphers; for, on 
looking into the letters, he perceived that others, 
of a similar tenor, had been sent in the course of 
the preceding day. He, therefore, ordered all the 
packets of the Imperial minister to be stopped and 



112 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

brought to him : and he commanded the ambassa- 
dor to confine himself to his house, transmitting, 
along with the disreputable writings, a circumstan- 
tial account of the real transactions of the English 
government, to be laid before the emperor, in or- 
der to show how much his confidence had been 
misplaced ; and to warn him of the danger that 
might ensue to the mutual amity of the two courts, 
by employing such unprincipled and mischievous 
men. 

XII. In consequence of what had passed be- 
tween the monk and the Cardinal, the regency of 
France sent a public embassy to open a negotia- 
tion ; but, before they had presented their creden- 
tials, tidings arrived in London of the defeat and 
captivity of their king at Pavia, an event which 
filled all Europe with consternation. The French 
garrisons in Italy abandoned their posts. The 
troops, spared from the battle, fled in amazement. 
The often-contested duchy of Milan was restored 
to the Imperialists. The Italian states, seeing the 
emperor thus in the possession of his rival, and ap- 
prehending, by his conduct to Francisco Sforza, 
that he was actuated by the ambition of being sole 
monarch, prepared to confederate for mutual de- 
fence. The Venetians proposed a league to the 
pope; but Clement, dreading to incur the ven- 
geance of the Imperial arms, refused their offer. 
The maritime state, however* with a courage wor- 
thy of freedom, determined to hazard all, rather 



CARDINAL WOLSEY, 113 

than incur the consequences of seeing the house of 
Austria without a rival. In London, the destruc- 
tion of the French army, and the captivity of the 
French king, afforded, at first, the liveliest pleasure. 
Henry boasted of his intention to proceed directly 
to France ; and the people exulted in the idea of 
seeing the projects of the Edwards and their fifth 
Harry realized. 

XIII. But the preparations ordered for the in- 
vasion were scarcely commenced, when messages 
came, from all parts, with such a description of the 
arrogance of the Imperialists, and the conduct of 
the emperor, in attempting to appropriate entirely 
to himself all the fruits of the victory, that the king 
suspended his purpose. He was convinced that 
the balance of power was overthrown ; that it was 
barely possible for him to maintain the proud emi- 
nence on which he had hitherto stood ; and that 
the events which he thought so favourable to the 
accomplishment of his wishes, menaced him, in 
fact, with a more subordinate fortune than the 
kings of England had ever known. It is seldom 
that any man can direct the current of national 
affairs ; but a wide and earnest system of action 
never fails to produce results which resemble the 
pre-expected effects of particular designs. The 
Cardinal, in conjunction with the Italian states, 
promptly adopted a course of policy which had for 
its object the restoration of the balance of power. 
The imperial ambassador was therefore allowed to 



114 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

quit his confinement, and to leave the kingdom ; 
while it was secretly intimated to the court of Paris, 
that the King of England had determined not to 
avail himself of the unfortunate and defenceless 
state of France. 

XIV. The first intelligence of the defeat at 
Pavia filled the French nation with despair and 
sorrow. The people imagined and expected every 
calamity which fear could suggest, and adversity 
render probable. They bewailed the captivity of 
their king — their nobles also prisoners, or slain in 
battle — and they deemed their misfortunes irrepa- 
rable. The realm was exhausted of treasure ; en- 
vironed with mighty armies ; and the noise of the 
terrible preparations of the English king resounded 
continually in their ears. The government was in 
the hands of a woman ; the princes were still chil- 
dren ; and the soldiers were destitute of leaders : — 
all seemed combined to denote their subjugation. 
But the mother of Francis possessed a firm and a 
majestic mind. Though his letters informed her 
that all was lost but life and honour, she exerted 
her spirit in the midst of the general alarm, and 
roused the ministers to perform their duty. 

XV. Francis was conveyed in his own galleys to 
Spain ; and his voyage was cheered by the hope 
that, when brought into the presence of Charles, 
lie should easily negotiate his freedom ; at least, 
that his treatment would resemble the magnanimous 
entertainment which his ancestor had received at 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 115 

the court of England in the time of Edward III. 
The emperor did indeed give orders to receive him 
with the distinction due to his rank ; but this gene- 
rosity was of short duration. Francis had not been 
long upon the Spanish territory, when he was con- 
veyed a close prisoner to the castle of Madrid, al- 
lowed no honourable pastime, and deprived of the 
expectation of seeing Charles. The keen sense of 
indignity, disappointment, and misfortune pressed 
upon his mind, and reduced him to such a low 
despondent state, that the physicians despaired of 
his recovery, unless the emperor would have the 
humanity to visit him, with some assurance of 
freedom. Charles had received the news of the 
victory of Pavia with Tiberian hypocrisy. He 
forbade, among his subjects, all demonstrations of 
joy, and affected to be impressed with sentiments 
which were not natural, nor such as he could feel. 
The peculiar malady of Francis disconcerted his 
craftiness. He had not decided in what manner to 
act ; and the death of the captive would render the 
victory comparatively fruitless. But he was ad- 
monished, that he could not comply with the sug- 
gestions of the physicians without setting Francis 
free ; or without incurring the disgraceful imputa- 
tion of having desired the preservation of his life 
only to satisfy his own avarice. Sovereigns are 
not bound by the predilections of men ; but it is 
an essential part of their duty to ennoble the topics 
of human admiration by the grandeur of their ge- 



116 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

nerosity. Charles, however, though at this period 
only in the twenty-fifth year of his age, had sur- 
vived the disinterestedness of youth, and despised 
the unprofitable heroism of chivalry. He visited 
Francis ; seated himself, with unfelt kindness, be- 
side his couch ; and, by the practice of fraudulent 
compassion, renovated the hope and life that were 
on the point of expiring. 

XVI. The preparations formed in England for 
the vigorous prosecution of the war, and which 
Henry, on receiving the news of Francis's defeat, 
had exultingly ordered to be directed against 
France, were continued in order to provide for the 
consequences which were apprehended from the 
conduct of the emperor. But the expense had al- 
ready greatly exceeded the sums voted by the con- 
vocation and by parliament: in consequence, it 
was resolved to levy an extraordinary contribution, 
under the name of a benevolence. Commissions 
were accordingly issued to all the shires, requiring 
the sixth part of every layman's, and the fourth 
part of every churchman's plate and coin, to be 
delivered for the king's use. The rage which the 
publication of this exorbitant stretch of preroga- 
tive excited against the king and the cardinal, 
made it soon evident that the expedient could not 
succeed. On this occasion the citizens of London 
were again conspicuously reluctant. Several pub- 
lic meetings of the members of the corporation 
were held without coming to any decision. Wol- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 117 

sey became impatient. He sent for the mayor and 
aldermen, and demanded if they really meant to 
execute their commission. Because if they did 
not, he would himself claim the benevolence. A 
counsellor, whom the magistrates had brought with 
them, observed that, by a statute of King Richard 
III., benevolences could not be exacted. " Your 
grace," said he, " may, no doubt, obtain some- 
thing from individuals ; but it will either be by 
the dread of your power, or the hope of your fa- 
vour." The Cardinal replied, that he was sur- 
prised to hear any precedent alleged from the 
usurpation of Richard. " But, my lord," said this 
firm and intrepid citizen, " many of his laws are 
excellent ; and they are all sanctioned by parlia- 
ment, which exercises the authority of the whole 
realm." In the deliberations of the common coun- 
cil of the city it had, prior to this meeting, been 
resolved, that the aldermen should severally apply 
to their respective wards for the benevolence ; the 
lord mayor, therefore, hearing that benevolences 
were contrary to law, and observing the Cardinal 
tacitly assenting to the truth of the counsellor's re- 
mark, fell on his knees, and entreated that the re- 
solution, since it appeared to be illegal, might be 
rescinded. "I am content so far," said Wolsey, 
" but what will you and the aldermen here give ?" 
M Pardon me, my lord," answered the mayor, 
" were I to promise, personally, any grant, it 
might cost me my life ;" alluding to the indigna* 



118 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tion it might occasion in the city. " Your life !" 
observed the Cardinal, " that is truly a marvel- 
lous fine word for your loyalty ! Will the citizens 
put it in jeopardy ? If they dare to do so, they 
shall certainly feel the king's power. My lord 
mayor, let you and your citizens, if you be dis- 
pleased with any thing in this demand, respect- 
fully, and in a proper manner, come to me, and I 
will endeavour to procure you satisfaction. In the 
meantime, collect the money, and place it where 
you think it may be safe, that, if the king shall not 
happen to need it for the war, it may be returned 
to the contributors." From the tenor of this con- 
versation, it is evident that the Cardinal was ap- 
prized of the difficulty of his situation with the 
people; and also, that there was some indisposi- 
tion, the effect of the emperor's policy, in the go- 
vernment to prosecute the war. 

XVII. The murmurs in the metropolis were 
trifling, compared to the vehement discontent 
which prevailed in other parts of the kingdom. 
Some of the commissioners were intimidated from 
their duty, and others exasperated the people by 
intolerable insolence. The Duke of Suffolk had, 
in his county, succeeded in persuading many of 
the wealthy manufacturers to comply with the 
wishes of government ; but when they returned 
to their own homes, crowds assembled and riot- 
ously attacked them. The duke ordered, in con- 
sequence, the constables to seize all the warlike 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 119 

weapons in private houses, which enraged the mul- 
titude still more. The alarm-bells were rung, and 
about four thousand men appeared in arms, threat- 
ening with death all the abettors of the benevo- 
lence. Suffolk hastily summoned the gentlemen 
of the county, ordered the bridges to be broken, 
and requested Surrey, who, by the death of his 
father, was now Duke of Norfolk, to come to his 
assistance. As the restoration of tranquillity, ra- 
ther than punishment, was the object, Norfolk, on 
his arrival, rode up to the insurgents, and with 
that manly affability which is always found con- 
nected with great talents of every kind, and which 
constitutes one of the chief ingredients of a gene- 
ral's character, he endeavoured to pacify their 
anger, and advised them to retire. " Poverty and 
Necessity," they exclaimed, Qi have incited and led 
us on, and without redress, as we can but die, we 
will not disperse." He entreated them still to re- 
turn quietly to their homes and callings, and as- 
sured them, that Suffolk and himself would speak 
in their behalf to the king. At length the ring- 
leaders surrendered, and were taken to London, 
and the rest, in token of repentance, went with 
halters round their necks to the abbey of St Ed- 
mund, and, having done this penance, peacefully 
dispersed. The rumour of these discontents and 
insurrections had in the meanwhile alarmed the 
king, who, having ordered the privy counsellors to 
meet in the Cardinal's palace, indignantly address- 



120 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

ed them to the following effect : — " By whose au- 
thority have the commissions for the benevolence 
been so rigidly enforced ? It was not my intention 
to ask any thing contrary to law ; I must there- 
fore be informed by whose advice this grievance 
has been committed." Each of the counsellors 
endeavoured to exculpate himself, but Wolsey 
answered, " When it was deliberated in what 
manner the money for the public exigencies should 
be levied, the whole council and the judges of the 
land agreed that any benevolence might be sought 
by commission. For myself, I take God to wit- 
ness, that I never desired to oppress the people ; 
but, since every man lays the blame from him, I 
will take it on myself, and answer to the clamour 
of the nation !" There was so much honest magna- 
nimity in this speech, that it appears to have sen- 
sibly affected the king, who immediately said, — 
" Some of you did tell me, that England was ne- 
ver before so rich, — that no trouble would arise 
from this demand, and that every man would freely 
give at my requesting. The truth, I see, is other- 
wise, and therefore there shall be no more of this 
vexation. Let letters instantly be sent to the shires to 
stop this unhappy business." Letters were sent ac- 
cordingly, in which it was declared that the Cardinal 
had authorised the commissions, sanctioned by the 
opinion of the judges and the general sentiment of the 
king'scouncil, and that, at his intercession, they were 
again recalled. The leaders of the Suffolk hisur- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 121 

rection, after this, were taken from the prison to 
the Star Chamber, where the Cardinal, presiding, 
rebuked them sharply for their offence. He placed 
before their imaginations the havoc and ruin which 
they might have entailed on themselves and others ; 
" but his majesty," said he, " notwithstanding 
the greatness of the crime, is pleased to pardon, 
provided that securities are found for future good 
behaviour.*" The prisoners answered, that they 
had no sureties to offer. " Indeed," replied the 
Cardinal, " then my lord of Norfolk, here, will be 
one for you, and, as you are my countymen, I 
will be the other.' 1 And they were dismissed from 
the bar, and returned cheerfully home. Thus ter- 
minated a series of transactions which might have 
filled the nation with calamities ; and thus a rebel- 
lion was quelled without bloodshed in the field, or 
that wasteful retribution which the judicature, on 
such occasions, is too strongly prone to exercise. 

XVIII. In order to ascertain how far Charles 
actually entertained those ambitious and unjust de- 
signs, which the Italian states conceived they had 
reason to fear, ambassadors were sent from London 
to demand from him an immediate fulfilment of the 
terms of his different treaties with Henry. They 
were instructed to urge, that as the war had been 
made at the common expense of the two monarchs, 
their sovereign should participate in the fruits of 
the battle of Pavia ; and therefore, in treating with 
Francis, it ought to be stipulated, that those pro- 



122 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

vinces of France, which were considered as the 
rightful inheritance of the English kings, should 
be restored to Henry. If this could not be ob- 
tained by negotiation, then Charles should invade 
France from the Spanish frontiers, while Henry 
entered by the way of Picardy ; and that both 
should continue the war until the king was satis- 
fied. As it was agreed in the treaty of Windsor, 
that each should deliver up to the other all the 
usurpers of their respective rights, it was required, 
that on the same day in which the Princess Mary, 
the bride betrothed of the emperor, was consigned 
to his ministers, the French king should be de- 
livered to English officers. The ambassadors 
were also instructed to say, that the emperor 
ought the more readily to comply with their 
king's wishes in these things ; for, being contract- 
ed to the heiress of his crown, all the advan- 
tage would in the end devolve on himself. The 
validity of these requisitions Charles could not dis- 
pute ; but it was evident, from their extent, that 
they constituted only a diplomatic stratagem, by 
which the obloquy of failing in the engagements 
would fall upon him. To the application of the 
ministers he returned a general, and, of course, an 
unsatisfactory answer. 

XIX. Meanwhile, ambassadors came from Paris, 
and were received with great distinction and much 
compassion by Henry. In their interview with 
Wolscy, they were, however, treated more accord- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 123 

ing to the deserts of their government. He repre- 
sented to them how perfidious the conduct of 
France had been ; how unsteady to her engage- 
ments ; and, but for the gracious intentions of his 
master, how abject she must become. They re- 
plied, with the characteristic humility of French- 
men in distress, " If we have offended, surely you 
have punished us severely. Our towns have been 
sacked, our people slain, our country desolated, 
and brought low in misery, we sue for peace." 
With ambassadors so humble, it was not difficult 
to negotiate ; but the design of the Cardinal was 
not to reduce France, but to restore the equilibri- 
um of Europe, the great purpose and aim of all his 
political undertakings. The treaty concluded, in 
consequence, was singularly generous. It was, in 
fact, a defensive league between the two nations. 
Henry engaged to procure the deliverance of Fran- 
cis ; two millions of crowns, payable in twenty 
years, by annual instalments, were accepted for the 
debts and tribute due from France to England ; 
and a bond for a hundred thousand crowns was 
given to Wolsey, in consideration of the arrears of 
his pension for the bishopric of Tournay, and the 
loss that he might incur by a rupture with the 
emperor, as he held at this time the bishoprics of 
Placentia and Badajos, in Spain, besides a pension 
from Charles himself. The arrears due to the 
king's sister, the dowager of France, were also to 
be paid, and her jointure regularly continued. 



124 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

The regency of France further engaged, that the 
Duke of Albany should not return to Scotland 
during the remainder of the minority of James V. 
The treaty arranged was duly ratified by the king ; 
and peace was proclaimed, in terms flattering to 
the national pride. 

XX. The effects of this treaty renovated the 
spirit of the French nation. The Italian states ac- 
quired additional confidence in the measures which 
they had adopted, to prevent the aggressions of 
the Imperialists ; and England maintained herself 
more firmly than ever, on the lofty eminence on 
which she stood among the nations of Europe. 
Charles, alarmed by the extent of the confederacy 
that was rising against him, and by the progress 
of the Turks in Hungary, hastily concluded, con- 
trary to the advice of his ministers, the treaty of 
Madrid with Francis. The first article in the 
execution of this impolitic engagement was, the 
exchange of the French king, which ought, cer- 
tainly, to have been the last, as the terms were 
such as the French nation was not likely willingly 
to fulfil ; although the children of the king were to 
be delivered as hostages. 

XXI. The Dauphin and the Duke of Orleans, 
on the day appointed for the exchange, were 
brought to Bayonne, by the regent, their grand- 
mother, and the officers of state. Francis was at 
the same time conveyed to Fonterabia, a small 
town on the sea-coast, between the province of Bis- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 125 

cay and the dutchy of Guyen. Accompanied by 
two persons of high rank, and surrounded by ca- 
valry, he was conducted to the river which separates 
the frontiers of France and Spain. The princes of 
France, with their attendants, arrived at the same 
time on the opposite side. The banks were crowd- 
ed with spectators. In the middle of the stream 
lay a vessel at anchor. No person was permitted 
to be on board. Francis, with the two imperial 
officers, and eight men, armed with short weapons, 
entered a barge, and were rowed towards the 
vessel. At the same moment, his children, simi- 
larly attended, also embarked. The spectators 
were silent. The boats reached the vessel. The 
king and the princes were put on board. The 
children, in silence, passed across the deck to the 
boat which their father had quitted. He looked 
at them ; sighed deeply ; hastily sprung into theirs ; 
was rapidly conveyed to his own kingdom, and wel- 
comed with shouts and acclamations by his soldiers 
and subjects. An Arabian horse, provided for the 
purpose, stood ready caparisoned on the strand. 
Francis vaulted into the saddle, and exultingly ex- 
claimed, as he galloped away, " I am again a 
king r 

XXII. As all Europe expected, Francis was 
not long in convincing Charles that the treaty of 
Madrid was never intended to be fulfilled. The 
resolution taken, pretexts for delay were easily 
found ; and no opportunity was lost, by which the 
3 



126 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

French thought they could reduce the ransom of 
their princes. The emperor, enraged, insisted upon 
the terms of the treaty ; but, in the meantime, 
Soliman, the sultan, was advancing upon Hun- 
gary. Italy was full of uproar and war. England 
alone, of all the Christian nations, enjoyed, in her 
insular protection, the blessings of peace. In the 
invasion of Hungary, Louis, the king, was killed, 
while flying from the Turks, after a defeat as fatal 
as the battle of Flodden had been to Scotland. 
Ferdinand, the brother of Charles, in right of his 
wife, sister to Louis, succeeded to the throne, and 
a truce was concluded with Soliman. But John 
Lepuse, governor of Transylvania, pretending that 
the majority of the Hungarian nobles had chosen him 
for their king, complained to several of the Chris- 
tian princes of Ferdinand's usurpation. Soliman, 
foreseeing the confusion that would arise from this 
rivalry, prepared to renew the invasion. Ferdi- 
nand, fearful of the consequences, sent ambassa- 
dors to England, and implored the assistance of 
Henry, his uncle. But, as the English govern- 
ment attributed the progress which the sultan had 
been allowed to make wholly to the ambitious war- 
fare which the emperor still continued to wage, 
the embassy proved abortive. The ministers were 
told, that as the brother of their master would not 
agree to any reasonable terms of accommodation 
with Francis, the princes of Christendom could not 
unite against the infidels, and that Soliman must 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 127 

of course prevail. It could not, indeed, be ex- 
pected, that while Charles pursued only his own 
schemes of aggrandisement, to the manifest destruc- 
tion of the balance of power, that England, pro- 
tectress of the balance, would virtually abet his 
designs in Italy, by assisting Ferdinand. 

XXIII. But before any decisive measures had 
come to maturity for the restoration of the French 
princes, an event happened in Italy still more 
alarming to all Christendom than the battle of 
Pavia. Clement, who, after that battle, had de- 
clined to unite with the Venetians, finding his hope 
of making better terms for himself frustrated, had 
at length joined them and the other Italian states 
in a league, which was called by his name, and of 
which the King of England had been declared the 
protector. Bourbon, in consequence, resolved to 
seize the city of Rome, not only to punish the pope, 
but to indemnify his troops for the hardships and 
privations which they had long suffered. Leaving 
umolested the army which the leaguers had collect- 
ed in Tuscany, he marched directly to the metro- 
polis; and encamping on the meadows, near the 
Tyber, he demanded, by sound of trumpet, per- 
mission to pass through the city to Naples. The 
pope was astonished and defenceless. The whole 
of his guards were with the army in Tuscany; 
and he had only his anathemas to resist the Im- 
perial soldiers. The Roman populace, however, 
felt a glow of the spirit of their ancestors ; menials, 



128 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

grooms, and mechanics, voluntarily formed a bois- 
terous but animating array ; while the rich and 
the noble retired into their mansions, hoping, by 
such pusillanimous neutrality, to be respected by 
the conquerors ; thus serving to demonstrate, that 
the bold and sturdy vulgar, who have only lives 
to hazard, are ever the ready guardians of their 
country, as they are of freedom. Clement, infa- 
tuated by terror, without attempting to negotiate, 
refused the summons. At break of day, the army, 
which might be compared to gaunt and famished 
wolves surrounding a fold, rose from the meadows, 
and advanced towards the city. A thick mist con- 
cealed the temples of Rome, and overshadowed 
the monuments of her glory. The Imperialists ad- 
vanced under it in silence. In the same moment 
that the resolute but undisciplined multitude on 
the walls discovered their approach, the assault 
began. Bourbon, to animate his men, seized a 
scaling-ladder, and, running forward, was shot, 
and fell dead on the earth. The Prince of Orange 
flung a cloak over the body, and called on the 
soldiers to revenge the death of their general. 
For two hours the citizens defended themselves 
with a courageous constancy not unworthy of the 
Roman name ; but one of those sudden panics, to 
which undisciplined volunteers, of the bravest in- 
dividual spirit, are always liable, suddenly seized 
them, and they fled from their posts, abandoned 
entirely to fear. The pope, attended by the ear- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 129 

dinals and other high personages, was in the chapel 
of the Vatican, standing at the altar, in anxious 
dread of the event. The shrieks and cries of fly- 
ing women and children were heard without. The 
rites of religion were suspended. The noise rose 
louder and louder. The clash of arms, and the 
tumultuous sounds of fighting and vengeance, drew 
nearer and nearer. The trembling prelates looked 
at one another ; and the pope, hastily gathering up 
the folds of his robes, ran precipitately, followed 
by the spectators, to the castle of St Angelo. The 
city became the victim of the rage and sensuality 
of the assailants. The shrines were broken, and 
the bones of holy men were scattered with derision 
in the streets. The German soldiers, tainted with 
the principles of Luther, were conspicuously active 
in the profanation. The effigy of the pope was 
burnt as antichrist. But it was not on the sense- 
less objects of superstition that the licentiousness 
of the soldiers was chiefly manifested. During the 
pillage, a furious passion for gaming took posses- 
sion of their minds. Some, loaded with plate and 
treasure, were seen running to where their com- 
panions sat at dice, and staking their whole spoil 
on a throw, returned instantly to pillage more. 
The dastardly nobles, shut up in their houses, en- 
deavouring from the windows, to ransom them- 
selves and their families, were obliged to treat with 
every gang of plunderers, until they had nothing 
left to offer ; and then they were compelled to wit- 

i 






130 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

ness and endure the calamities and the shame which 
they had vainly hoped to avert. Private mansions 
were not the only scenes of slaughter and sensual 
fury. The convents were burst open, and the mis- 
erable nuns violated in the midst of corses and 
blood. The lamentations of those who despaired 
of escaping, or were made loathsome to themselves, 
only served to instigate to new crimes. Some of 
the soldiers, in the momentary glut of appetite, 
with a wild hope of obliterating their guilt, set fire 
to the theatres of these dreadful tragedies, and 
consumed victims and violators together. The sol- 
diers were not the only criminals. The citizens 
joined in the carnival of sin ; and horrible desires 
were openly gratified in the midst of murders and 
the putrefactions of death. 

XXIV. All Christendom was filled with horror 
and grief. Henry vowed immediate vengeance 
against Charles, whom he regarded as the cause of 
transactions such as had never before disgraced 
the Christian character, and of calamities, such as 
Rome, in all the vicissitudes of her eventful for- 
tune, had never before suffered. Nor was the 
Cardinal less eager to avenge what had happened, 
or to avert what might ensue. It was apprehended 
that a vast sum would be levied on all the mem- 
bers of the church for the ransom of the pope and 
the papal city, and that privileges would be ex- 
torted derogatory to the pontifical supremacy and 
the independence of Christendom. To anticipate 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 131 

these consequences, prompt and comprehensive 
measures were necessary. A council was sum- 
moned, and the flagrant proceedings of the impe- 
rial army, as well as the conduct of the emperor, 
were immediately considered. — When his circum- 
stances rendered him scarcely a match for the 
French king, he became a contrahent in the league 
of London ; and when that league was violated by 
the French, the English government performed all 
its engagements and obligations. But immediately 
after the battle of Pavia, when Charles conceived 
himself master of the continent, and no longer un- 
der any necessity of depending on the aid of Eng- 
land, he assumed an insolence of demeanour which 
he had never before manifested. In his letters to 
Henry, his uncle, he laid aside the customary 
courtesy and equality with which he had formerly 
addressed him^ and assumed the arrogant style 
of a superior. He treated Francis while in his 
possession more as a culprit vassal of his own 
than as a prisoner of war ; and could it be ex- 
pected, that, master of the capital of Christendom, 
and of the pope's person, his ambition would be 
repressed ? It was, therefore, determined, that a 
convention should immediately be concluded with 
Francis, which should have for its object the de- 
liverance of Clement ; and that, for this purpose, 
Wolsey should proceed immediately to France, in 
order to arrange the terms, and to concert the mea- 
sures essential to give it effect. The objects of 

2 



132 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

this embassy being deemed peculiarly solemn, the 
preparations were unusually magnificent. The 
Cardinal left London accompanied by many peers 
and prelates, with a train of above a thousand ser- 
vants, and eighty waggons loaded with baggage 
and treasure. When he passed through Canter- 
bury, prayers were performed in the cathedral for 
the deliverance of the pope from his miserable 
captivity ; and during the chanting of the pa- 
thetic orison prepared for the occasion, Wolsey, 
convinced of the instability of his own grandeur, 
and touched, perhaps, with a presentiment of his 
fall, was observed to shed tears. 

XXV. The narrative of the Cardinal's journey 
and progress in France strikingly displays his love 
of magnificence, and the splendour of the age ; 
but the details are more interesting to the anti- 
quary than to the historian. Still, however, it 
contains circumstances worthy of selection, as they 
serve to illustrate his domestic character and the 
decision of his mind in public affairs. When his 
equipages were landed at Calais, and while the 
French court was coming to meet him, he ordered 
all his household into his presence, and addressed 
them to the following effect : — " Yen know that 
the king, for certain important affairs, lias ap- 
pointed me on this occasion to be his lieutenant : 
as such, I shall expect from you reverence accord- 
ingly ; and I will take care, on my own part, to 
preserve the dignity with which I have been in- 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 



133 



vested. But it is necessary that I should caution 
you with respect to the character of the persons 
whom you are to meet. The nature of Frenchmen 
will make them treat you at the first interview as 
familiarly as if they were your old acquaintances ; 
and they will speak to you in their French lan- 
guage as though you understood every word. 
Use them in the same way, and familiarly talk with 
them in English, while they speak to you in French ; 
so that if you do not understand them, they shall 
not understand you ;" and he added, turning face- 
tiously to one of his gentlemen who was a Welsh- 
man, " Speak you to them in Welsh ; and I doubt 
not but your language will be more puzzling to 
them than theirs to you. But I pray you all to 
be orderly, gentle, and polite ; that, after our de- 
parture, it may be said, that you knew the duties 
of your station, and the reverence belonging to 
your lord ; for the commendations which may be 
obtained by the propriety of your behaviour will 
reflect honour on your prince and country. 11 From 
Calais he went towards Amiens. Francis having, 
as a mark of his singular esteem, and by the title 
of his dearest and great friend, empowered him to 
pardon all criminals, but those who had been guilty 
of high treason, rape, and sacrilege, the Cardinal 
exercised the royal prerogative of mercy in the dif- 
ferent towns through which the embassy passed, 
and the inhabitants entertained him with Latin 
orations and triumphal processions. When he had 



134 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

arrived within a short distance of the city, word 
was brought that Francis and the court were ad- 
vancing to meet him. He immediately alighted, 
and entering a small chapel which stood on the 
road-side, he arrayed himself more sumptuously 
than usual, and his mule was at the same time ca- 
parisoned with gold and crimson velvet. By the 
time he was again mounted, the king, with his 
guards, had come very near. The Cardinal ad- 
vanced a little way, and then stopped. Francis, 
surprised, sent forward one of his attendants to in- 
quire the reason. Wolsey said that he expected to 
be met half-way. The messenger returned, and 
the king advancing, the Cardinal also came for- 
ward, and, both alighting at the same time, em- 
braced in the midway between their respective re- 
tinues. Francis having placed Wolsey on his 
right, and each English gentleman and attendant 
being marshalled with a Frenchman of equal rank, 
the procession, extending nearly two miles in length, 
proceeded to Amiens. After spending a few days 
there, the court removed to the castle of Cam- 
pcigne, which had been previously partitioned, one 
division being appropriated for the French and 
the other for the English. 

XXVI. The business, which had been preluded 
with so much grandeur, now seriously commenced. 
Wolsey, during the discussions, was frequently ir- 
ritated by the chicanery of the French ministers. 
One evening, while Francis himself was present, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 135 

lie lost all patience, and, starting from his seat, 
said to the French chancellor indignantly, — " Sir, 
it becomes not you to trifle with the friendship be- 
tween our sovereigns ; and if your master follow 
your practices, he shall not fail shortly to feel what 
it is to war against England ;" — and he immediate- 
ly left the room, nor could he be persuaded to re- 
sume the discussion, until the mother of Francis 
had entreated him to return. The objects of his 
mission, by this bold and singular diplomatic arti- 
fice, were speedily brought to a conclusion. Three 
several treaties, forming a league offensive, defen- 
sive, and of affinity, were concluded. The first 
related to a marriage between the Princess of Eng- 
land and the Duke of Orleans, — the emperor, by 
marrying the Princess of Portugal, having left her 
free. The second concerned the affairs of Francis 
and Charles, the deliverance of the French princes, 
and the restoration of the duchy of Milan to 
Sforza. In the event of Henry declaring war 
against Charles, Francis agreed that the English 
merchants should enjoy, in the French ports, 
the same privileges they enjoyed in the imperial 
dominions. The third treaty was, however, the 
principal ; and, both as the object of the embassy, 
and as the parent of events which have not, per- 
haps, even at this day, ceased to operate, deserves 
to be particularly noticed. 

XXVII. It declared, that while the pope re- 
mained a prisoner, no summons for a general coun- 



136 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

cil of the church should take effect within the do- 
minions of France and England ; and the two 
kings engaged, respectively, that their clergy should 
publicly protest their detestation of any such con- 
vocation. It was also declared, that any com- 
mandment, sentence, bull, letter, or brief, proceed- 
ing from the pope in his present situation, tend- 
ing to the prejudice of the French or English na- 
tions, or to the legatine authority of Cardinal 
Wolsey, should not be obeyed, but that the bear- 
ers of them should be punished ; and that during 
the captivity of the pope, whatsoever the Cardi- 
nal, in conjunction with the other prelates of Eng- 
land, assembled by the king, determined in the ec- 
clesiastical affairs of the English, should, when 
sanctioned by his majesty, be valid and obligatory. 
The like was settled by the French. Thus was a 
radical alteration made in the constitution of 
Christendom. Leo X., by becoming a party to 
the league of London, had degraded the pope to 
an equality with the secular princes. But this 
treaty openly declared, that, even in ecclesiastical 
affairs, the political authority was to be supreme ; 
and Henry afterwards maintained the principle 
with his characteristic vigour. 

XXVIII. Charles, when informed that the 
pope was his prisoner, and aware of the amazement 
which the pillage of Rome had diffused throughout 
Christendom, endeavoured to traffic with the tem- 
per of Henry. He sent him a letter, in which the 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 1B7 

excesses of the soldiery were palliated ; and, af- 
fecting- to doubt what should be his own conduct 
in so difficult a crisis, artfully solicited advice. To 
the different foreign ministers at his court he was 
equally plausible, but gave no satisfaction before 
the terms of the treaties between France and Eng- 
land were known. Then, in order to avert the 
consequences, he offered to the French and Eng- 
lish ambassadors, to give up those stipulations in 
the treaty of Madrid which the French nation had 
resolved not to fulfil ; and he sent orders to the 
Prince of Orange, who, after the death of Bour- 
bon, commanded the Imperialists in Rome, to set 
the pope at liberty ; but to take care, that from a 
friend he might not be able to become an enemy. 
This oracular order puzzled the prince exceed- 
ingly, who, being unable to expound it himself, 
called a council of war. The plain and blunt sol- 
diers who composed the council, having wasted a 
long time in vain perplexity, at length decided, 
that in a case so abstruse the main point should be 
secured. They accordingly stripped the pope of 
all he possessed in the castle, and turned him into 
the streets, as the best way of executing the em- 
peror's instructions. 

XXIX. Before any advantage could be taken 
of the politic moderation which Charles had assum- 
ed on learning the result of Wolsey's embassy to 
France, heralds from that country and England ar- 
rived in his court and demanded an audience. The 



138 CARDINAL WOLSBY; 

emperor ascended his throne, and being surround- 
ed by his officers and nobles, they were admitted to 
his presence ; and the English king at arms claimed 
protection and entertainment in a speech, to the fol- 
lowing effect : — " According to the laws and edicts, 
inviolably guarded by the Roman emperors, your 
predecessors, and by all other kings and princes, 
we, in the name of our respective sovereigns, have 
come to declare important matters ; and therefore 
we beseech your majesty, out of your benign cle- 
mency, to afford us, agreeably to those laws and 
edicts, security and honourable treatment, while 
we wait your answer ; and afterwards, to grant us 
safe conduct till we return to the lands and lord- 
ships of our masters." The emperor having as- 
sented, in the customary form, to this request, the 
French herald then stepped forward, and said, 
" Because your imperial majesty will not agree to 
equitable terms of peace ; nor pay your debts to 
the King of England ; nor set the pope free ; nor 
leave Italy in quietness, the king, my lord and 
master, commands me to declare, that he and his 
brother, the King of England, must henceforth 
treat you as an enemy; and from this day forward he 
will keep no contract for your profit and advantage ; 
but he will exert against you and your subjects all 
the annoyance of war, until, upon fair and honest 
terms, you restore his sons ; set the pope free ; pay 
the King of England ; and leave in tranquillity 
all his allies and confederates : forty days" respite 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 139 

is allowed to enable your subjects to withdraw 
from his dominions, and he requires the like for 
his subjects in yours." The herald then put on 
his mantle ; and the emperor replied, " I perfectly 
understand what you have said on the part of the 
king your master ; but I am surprised by this de- 
fiance ; for he is my prisoner, and not eligible to 
send me a defiance. He has made war with me 
long, and never did this before ; but I trust in 
God that I shall be able to defend myself. No one 
regrets what has happened to the pope more than I 
do : it was done without my knowledge, and yes- 
terday I received letters that he has been set at li- 
berty. As for the sons of your king, it is not my 
fault that they are not free ; I hold them in pawn, 
and he should redeem them. And as to what you 
say concerning my uncle the King of England, he 
is not well informed of these affairs, otherwise he 
would not have sent me this message : I will my- 
self write to him the whole truth. I never re- 
fused the payment of my debts, and I will act as I 
am in justice bound. But if he will make war, I 
must defend ; and I pray God that I may have no 
greater occasion to make war on him than he has 
received from me. 11 The English herald then an- 
swered, " The king, my supreme lord, considers 
peace necessary to the Christian world, that the 
princes may combine to resist the Turk, who has 
already taken Belgrade, and expelled the knights of 
St John from the isle of Rhodes ; and that the here- 



140 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 



sies and schismatic sects which have lately arisen 
may be repressed. But your commanders and 
army have sacked the city of Rome ; taken our 
holy father prisoner ; put the cardinals to ransom ; 
sacrilegiously profaned the churches; slain with 
the sword religious persons of all descriptions, till 
the air and the earth have been infected, and the 
Wrath of Heaven has come down demanding repar- 
ation. The debates and contentions between you 
and the French king are the roots and causes of 
these evils ; and my sovereign has in vain proposed 
to you terms of reconciliation. These things, with 
those that have been related by the French herald, 
have induced him to adopt an ultimate resolution. 
He has concluded a league with Francis and other 
confederates, to constrain you, by force of arms, to 
act with equity ; and I am authorised to offer, once 
for all, the conditions which have been already pro- 
posed. 1 "' He concluded the defiance with the pro- 
posal of forty days 1 respite. Having put on his 
mantle, the emperor answered to the same effect as 
he did to the other herald ; and afterwards wrote a 
long representation, in which he recapitulated many 
circumstances of complaint, which he had against 
the government of Henry, and particularly against 
Cardinal Wolsey. — England gained nothing by the 
wasteful wars in which she had embarked chiefly 
on his account : Charles endeavoured to appro- 
priate all the fruits of the battle of Pavia to him- 
self, in despite of positive stipulations by treaty ; 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 141 

and, by the sack of Rome, the frame of Christen- 
dom, of which Henry was the declared champion 
and defender, was nearly overthrown. 

XXX. Wolsey, after his return from France, 
on opening the Michaelmas term, addressed the 
judges and the other eminent persons then assem- 
bled upon the subject of his embassy, and the trea- 
ties which he had concluded with Francis ; stating, 
that such was the reciprocity and friendship esta- 
blished between the two kingdoms, that they 
would in future appear but as one monarchy. But 
the nation could not understand how it was for 
their advantage that the king should become so fa- 
miliar with their old and deadly enemy, and aban- 
don his own nephew, for whose behalf he had so 
urgently asked them for money ; and they had 
ceased to feel much interest in the fate of the pope. 
The merchants foresaw the loss of their trade with 
Spain and the Netherlands ; and doubted if all the 
advantages which might be derived from the open- 
ing of the French ports would be an equivalent. 
A new war was also probable; and the people, 
unable to comprehend the views of the Cardinal, 
but witnessing his ostentation and arrogance, be- 
gan to be infected by the discontents of the nobi- 
lity and ecclesiastics,* whom he had mortified by 
his talents, and offended by his justice. Wolsey 
had indeed attained the meridian of his fortune. 
In every transaction abroad, his name was men- 
tioned and his influence felt. The learned and 



142 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the artists of all countries came trooping to his 
gates, and the kingdom resounded with the fame 
of his affluence, and the noise of the buildings 
which he was erecting to luxury and to knowledge. 
His revenues, derived from the fines in the legatine 
court, the archbishopric of York, the bishopric 
of Winchester, and the abbey of St Albaifs, with 
several other English bishoprics, which were held 
by foreigners, but assigned to him at low rents for 
granting them the privilege of living abroad, to- 
gether with his pensions from Charles and Francis, 
the emoluments of the chancellorship, the revenues 
of the bishoprics of Badajos and Placentia in Spain, 
with rich occasional presents from all the allies of 
the king, and the wealth and domains of forty 
dissolved monasteries, formed an aggregate of in- 
come equal to the royal revenues. His house ex- 
hibited the finest productions of art which such 
wealth could command in the age of Leo X. The 
walls of his chambers were hung with cloth of gold, 
and tapestry still more precious, representing the 
most remarkable events in sacred history, for the 
easel was then subordinate to the loom. His floors 
were covered with embroidered carpets, and side- 
boards of cypress were loaded with vessels of gold. 
The sons of the nobility, according to the fashion 
of the age, attended him as pages ; and the daily 
service of the household corresponded to the opu- 
lence and ostentation of the master. 

XXXI. The entertainment which the Cardinal 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 143 

gave at Hampton Court to the French commission- 
ers, sent to ratify the league, offensive and defen- 
sive, exceeded in splendour every banquet which 
had before that time been exhibited in England. 
Two hundred and eighty beds, with furniture of 
the costliest silks and velvets, and as many ewers 
and basins of silver, were prepared for the guests. 
The halls were illuminated with innumerable 
sconces and branches of plate. Supper was an- 
nounced by the sound of trumpets, and served 
with triumphal music. But the master was not 
yet come. He had been detained late in London, 
and the dessert, which consisted of figures, castles, 
and cathedrals, in confectionary, with all the em- 
blems of ecclesiastical pomp, and the pageants of 
chivalry, was on the tables, when he entered, boot- 
ed and spurred. Having welcomed the guests^ he 
called for a golden bowl, filled with hippocras : the 
the French commissioners were served at the same 
time with another, and they reciprocally drank to 
the health of their respective sovereigns. He then 
retired to dress; and, returning speedily to the 
company, exerted those convivial talents which had 
first contributed to the attainment of this excessive 
grandeur. The Frenchmen doubted which most 
to admire, the mansion, the feast, or the master. 
Wolsey felt exultingly gratified, and the measure 
of his greatness could hold no more. 



BOOK V. 



It may still be said, as in the days of Queen Eliza- 
beth, that Ireland seems reserved by Almighty 
God for woes which shall come by her upon Eng- 
land. Causes intrinsically similar to those which 
agitated that unfortunate country in the age of 
Henry VIII., have stained the annals of the pre- 
sent reign with blood. The terrible constancy 
with which the people have reviled, for more than 
six hundred years, the English system of rule, 
must be ascribed to the effect of something vicious 
in that system. Nor can this be denied. By call- 
ing the descendants of the English who settled in 
Ireland subsequent to the time of Henry II. pro- 
testants, and the aboriginal inhabitants catholics, 
the relative condition of the people will appear to 
have continued unaltered since that epoch ; and 
yet, in all the series of the ministers who have sue- 
cessively ruled England, will it found that any one 
of them has pursued a wiser policy than that of 
Cardinal Wolsey ? 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 145 

II. The earliest authentic descriptions of the 
Irish represent them as a frank kind-hearted peo- 
ple, much under the influence of the imagination, 
enthusiastic in all their passions and pursuits, amo- 
rous, fond of renown, delighted with war, generous 
to the distressed, and hospitable to friends and 
strangers. When polished by education, they ex- 
cel in the convivial fascination of wit and humour ; 
and they are the most eloquent of all the modern 
nations. The lower classes are faithful and affec- 
tionate where they form attachments ; but the 
strength of their passions makes them lax in their 
morality. They have little ambition, the conse- 
quence of ignorance, and they entertain for their 
masters sentiments that would become the humi- 
lity of an inferior cast. The men are well formed, 
tall, and clear-complex ioned ; and the women are 
more remarkable for the symmetry of their arms 
and limbs, than for the beauty of their features. 
In the days of Campion the men wore their hair 
cropped close, leaving on their forehead a large 
tuft, which they thought added to the manliness 
of their countenance ; and in the present age the 
same fashion has been revived. To their national 
customs the Irish have always been strongly at- 
tached, valuing antiquity more than utility. In 
the time of Wolsey, those who were skilled in the 
delicacy of their native language affected to be 
enraptured by the allusions and apophthegms of 
the bards and jesters. The chieftains retained 

K 



146 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tale-tellers, who invented stories for their amuse- 
ment ; and the delight which the nation has always 
received from wonderful tales has drawn upon 
Irishmen the imputation of being credulous. 

III. The feudal system was never generally esta- 
blished in Ireland. The English adventurers in 
the expedition of Henry II. doubtless received 
their portions of his conquest on the condition of 
rendering military service ; but he only subdued a 
small part of the kingdom, and the ancient usages 
retained, beyond the English bounds, in the reign 
of Henry VIII., much of their primitive pecu- 
liarity. The aboriginal Irish law of territorial in- 
heritance was probably similar to what prevailed in 
the northern parts of Europe, before the feudal 
system was established. It seems to have been an 
early offset from the more ancient and patriarchal 
rule of clanship. The territorial heir was not, as 
in Scotland among the clans, the military successor 
of his father ; nor, as in feudatory states, the su- 
perior of the inhabitants of his domain. For, when 
a commander happened to die, the people resorted 
to a known appointed place, in order to choose ano- 
ther leader ; and the relation of the deceased who 
was most admired for his hardihood and exploits was 
generally preferred, without reference to his degree 
of consanguinity. When the election was declared, 
the successful candidate was placed on a stone con- 
secrated by the use of ages for that purpose. It 
commonly stood on the to}) of a hill, and had a foot 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 147 

engraved on it, alleged to be the form of that of 
the first commander of the district to which the 
stone belonged. While standing on the stone, the 
chief took an oath to preserve all the customs of 
the country, and the rights of the tanist, or terri T 
torial heir. A wand was then delivered to him by 
an officer appointed for that part of the ceremony ; 
and, on receiving it, he descended from the stone, 
and turning thrice round, backwards and forwards, 
completed his inauguration. The military com- 
mand being thus distinct from the possession of the 
land, domains in Ireland were said to be regulated 
by tanistry ; and to this peculiarity, and the usages 
attached to it, the multitudinous funerals of the 
Irish populace, and their custom of assembling in 
crowds on raths and hills, to discuss their public 
grievances, may be distinctly traced. The origin 
of an evil which still severely afflicts the nation 
may also be attributed to those ancient customs, 
although the causes which serve to prolong that 
evil cannot now be ascribed to the exercise of po- 
pular rights. Under the feudal system, the land- 
lord was induced to cultivate the affection of his 
vassals, that he might himself the more eminently 
perform his military service. He allowed them, in 
consequence, not only to acquire independent pro- 
perty, but to obtain an interest in the soil. As the 
system fell into decay, the descendants of those vas- 
sals who had judiciously managed the favours of 
their chief gradually formed the yeomen. But 



148 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the tanistry-proprietor having no motive to study 
the predilections of his tenants, sought only to 
increase his income ; and, accordingly, even while 
the feudal system and practices were still in some 
degree of force in the neighbouring kingdoms, it 
was considered as a great misfortune to Ireland 
that the lands were let at rack-rents from year to 
year, and often only during pleasure. 

IV. Among other usages which, in the days of 
Wolsey, stinted the improvement of the Irish, the 
Brehon law deserves to be particularly noticed. 
By it, all crimes seemed to be estimated only as 
injuries done to the individuals who suffered ; and 
as such were considered as eligible to be compro- 
mised at the option of the injured. The widow 
might compound with the murderer of her husband; 
the son with his father's ; and, in all the varieties 
of offence, delinquents were not responsible to the 
public, but only to the offended. This singular 
traditionary rule of right, in principle so different 
from the divine and civil laws, is the strongest 
proof that can be adduced of the originality and 
antiquity of the Irish nation. The progress of 
jurisprudence tends to take criminal prosecutions 
out of the hands of individuals, and to vest them 
in public ministers : perhaps even in civil actions 
it has the same tendency ; at least, the expense of 
obtaining legal satisfaction in England has become 
so enormous, that many men submit to consider- 
able losses, rather than incur the charges of the 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 149 

lawyers ; and it has been found necessary to autho- 
rise the justices of the peace to decide those small 
suits of creditors, which are supposed to affect the 
claims and dealings of the labouring class. But the 
progress of improvement is slow, and the abolition 
of opinions, which have become habitual, like those 
which relate to the principles and forms of judicial 
proceeding, requires long patience and diligent per- 
severance. It has been the peculiar destiny of 
Ireland, owing to the exclusive distinction which 
England has always made between the two great 
classes into which she has held the inhabi- 
tants, never to have been so steadily treated, as 
to enable her people to acquire those regular 
habits which result from a long-continued admi- 
nistration of uniform law. Ireland has been as 
often exposed to the hardships of military rule as 
she has enjoyed the benefits of civil discipline. 
After the invasion of Henry II., and prior to the 
contest between the families of York and Lancas- 
ter, some progress was made in subjecting the sub- 
jects within the English pale to the laws of the so- 
vereign. But at the unhappy revolution, by which 
Henry VI. was deposed, many of the nobility, and 
other influential persons of English origin, came 
over to this country, and took a part in the civil 
wars ; and the wild Irish, as the inhabitants be- 
yond the pale were called, burst in upon the civi- 
lized, and laid waste their cultivation; so that, when 
Henry VIII. came to the throne, scarce a trace of 



150 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

it remained. The popular feuds and animosities 
were exasperated to the utmost. The subjects of 
English extraction enjoyed all the public distribu- 
tion of power ; while the aboriginal race, by far 
the most numerous, sustained the contumelious 
treatment of an inferior religious order, and were 
deemed incapable of enjoying the beneficence of 
jurisprudence. Continual insurrections, midnight 
ravages, and frightful assassinations, were the con- 
sequence. The alarm was nightly sounded ; and 
the mischief arising from a divided people was con- 
sidered as a reason for perpetuating the distinc- 
tions that produced it. 

V. "When Wolsey was appointed prime minister, 
Gerald Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, was deputy of 
Ireland. His father, Earl Thomas, for more than 
thirty years, had enjoyed the same trust, and in 
the course of that time the power of the family 
had been much augmented ; but his contentions 
with James Butler, Earl of Ormond, had proved 
injurious to the prosperity of the country. In 
the great debate of the York and Lancaster ques- 
tion, they had taken opposite sides ; and, by that 
means, spread in Ireland calamities similar to those 
which ravaged England. Kildare embraced the 
cause of the York family, and Ormond that of the 
Lancaster. After the death of Earl Thomas, Ge- 
rald was appointed deputy, and some steps were 
taken to improve the condition of the people. His 
administration commenced, indeed, favourably to 



CARDINAL WOLSBY. 151 

the interests of his country ; and he reduced the 
inhabitants, if not into subjection, at least into awe. 
In order to end the feud between the Geraldines 
and the Butlers, he matched his sister Margaret 
with Pierce Butler, Earl of Ossory ; whom, at the 
decease of Earl James, the rival of his father, he 
assisted to rescue the earldom of Ormond from the 
usurpation of a bastard. Whether, in the mode 
or means of accomplishing this, he had exceeded 
the limits of his authority, and put forth a vigour 
beyond the law, or was falsely accused, is not very 
clear ; but he was called by the Cardinal to Eng- 
land in order to answer, before the privy council, 
to charges of misdemeanour. His successor was 
Surrey, whose administration has been already al- 
luded to ; and which was still more distinguished 
than Gerald Fitzgerald, by efforts to advance the 
authority of the laws, and to improve the judi- 
cature. 

VI. One day, as Surrey sat at dinner in the 
castle of Dublin, he was informed that the clan of 
Omore was up in great force, and violating the 
English pale. The troops were immediately or- 
dered out, and, headed by himself, proceeded to 
attack them. An incident which took place in this 
affair is singularly characteristic of the men and of 
the times. The mayor of Dublin, John Fitz- 
simons, raised a party of volunteers, and next 
morning joined the lord lieutenant. The Omores, 
m the king's forces approached, divided themselves 



152 CARDIAL WOLSEY. 

into companies ; one of which, understanding that 
the baggage dragging behind was slenderly guard- 
ed, passed into the rear of the citizens, and at- 
tacked the guard, among which were some of the 
lord-lieutenanfs men, who instantly fled. The 
baggage, thus deserted, would have been cap- 
tured, but for the bravery of a relation of the 
mayor,' Patrick Fitzsimons, a stout and resolute 
youth, who manfully compelled the rebels to re- 
treat. Having himself killed two, he cut off their 
heads, which he carried with him to the mayor's 
tent. The soldiers who had fled so dastardly, con- 
ceiving that the baggage must have been lost, told 
their lord that Patrick Fitzsimons ran away, and 
that the rebels were too numerous for them to 
resist. The earl went instantly to the mayor in 
anger, and told him, that Patrick was a cowardly 
traitor in deserting his duty. " What am I ?" 
cried the youth, starting out of the pavilion in his 
shirt, with a bloody head dangling in each hand ; 
" My lord, I am no coward ; I stood true while 
your men gave me the slip ; I rescued the bag- 
gage, and these are the tokens of my manhood," 
throwing down the heads. " Say est thou so, 
Fitzsimons ?" cried Surrey, pleased with his spirit, 
" I cry thee mercy, and, by St George, I would 
to God I had been with thee in that skirmish." 
He then called for a bowl of wine, and, drinking 
to the volunteer, rewarded his valour. Soon after 
this insurgency, which wbb speedily quelled, war 



CARDINAL WttLSEY. 15 J 

being proclaimed against France and Scotland, 
Surrey was recalled home, and appointed to the 
army on the Scottish borders. His valour, inte- 
grity, and good humour, established his reputa- 
tion as a statesman among the Irish, by whom he 
was Ions after remembered with affectionate es- 
teem. 

VII. The Earl of Ossory, who had married 
Margaret Fitzgerald, was next appointed deputy. 
In the meantime, Kildare was acquitted in Eng- 
land, and, having married a sister of the Marquis 
of Dorset, returned to Ireland. Notwithstanding 
the marriage of Ossory, the Geraldines still hated 
the Butlers ; and his administration was, in conse- 
quence, so troubled by their disputes, that it was 
deemed necessary to send commissioners from Eng- 
land to endeavour, by civil means, to restore the 
public tranquillity. The result of their inquiries 
proving disadvantageous to Ossory, he was de- 
posed, and Kildare reinstated in the lieutenancy. 
At their return, they brought with them a Fitz- 
gerald, who, during Ossory "s administration, had 
murdered an Irish privy-counsellor for keeping a 
record of the excesses of the Geraldines. While 
the murderer, after his condemnation, was led, 
with a halter round his neck, and a taper in his 
hand, slowly through the streets of London to- 
wards the place of execution, a pardon was ob- 
tained for him. The Cardinal was vexed by this 
unexpected, and, as he thought, injudicious inter- 



154 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

position of the regal mercy; and his chagrin, 
though occasioned by the love of justice, was con- 
strued into an opinion, that he was hostile to the 
blood of the Geraldines. 

VIII. Ossory, mortified by his removal from 
the government, directed his spleen against the 
means and measures of his successor, who, indeed, 
was not scrupulous in his mode of ruling ; but 
often furnished just matter of complaint, with re- 
spect to his treatment of the subjects, and particu- 
larly in the non-performance of his duty towards 
his cousin the Earl of Desmond, who had entered 
into a treasonous correspondence with the French 
king, and afterwards with the emperor. Ossory, 
in consequence, lodged information against Kil- 
dare, and he was a second time summoned to Lon- 
don. The charges, at first, were not supposed to 
be of a very heinous nature, and he was allowed 
to leave his brother as deputy during his absence. 
In the course, however, of the investigation, other 
circumstances, of a more serious kind, were dis- 
covered ; and when he was subsequently brought 
before the privy council, the Cardinal assailed 
him with much asperity ; but he replied with ad- 
mirable shrewdness, and that bold familiar elo- 
quence peculiar to his countrymen. Wolsey be- 
gan by saying, " I know well, my lord, that I 
am not the fittest man at this table to accuse you, 
because your adherents assert, that I am an enemy 
to all nobility, and particularly to your blood. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 155 

But the charges against you are so strong that we 
cannot overlook them, and so clear that you cannot 
deny them. I must, therefore, beg, notwithstand- 
ing the stale slander against me, to be the mouth 
and orator of these honourable gentlemen, and to 
state the treasons of which you stand accused, 
without respecting how you may like it. My lord, 
you well remember, how the Earl of Desmond, your 
kinsman, sent emissaries with letters to Francis, the 
French king, offering the aid of Munster and Con- 
naught for the conquest of Ireland ; and, receiving 
but a cold answer, applied to Charles, the emperor. 
How many letters, what precepts, what messages, 
what threats, have been sent to you to apprehend 
him, and it is not yet done. Why ? Because you 
could not catch him ; nay, my lord, you would 
not, forsooth, catch him. If he be justly suspect- 
ed, why are you so partial ? If not, why are you so 
fearful to have him tried ? But it will be sworn 
to your face, that to avoid him you have winked 
Hilfully, shunned his haunts, altered your course, 
advised his friends, and stopped both ears and eyes 
in the business ; and that, when you did make a 
show of hunting him out, he was always before- 
hand, and gone. Surely, my lord, this juggling 
little became an honest man called to such honour, 
or a nobleman with so great a trust. Had you 
lost but a cow or a carrion of your own, two hun- 
dred retainers would have started up at your whis- 
tle, to rescue the prey from the farthest verge of 



156 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

Ulster. AH the Irish in Ireland must have made 
way for you. But, in performing your duty in 
this affair, merciful God ! how delicate, how dila- 
tory, how dangerous, have you been ! One time 
he is from home ; another time he is at home ; 
sometimes fled, and sometimes in places where you 
dare not venture. What ! the Earl of Kildare 
not venture ! Nay, the King of Kildare ; for you 
reign more than you govern the land. When you 
are offended, the lowest subjects stand as rebels ; 
when you are pleased, rebels are very dutiful sub- 
jects. Hearts and hands, lives and lands, must all 
be at your beck. Who fawns not to you, cannot 
live within your scent, and your scent is so keen 
that you track them out at pleasure."' 1 While the 
Cardinal was speaking, the earl frequently changed 
colour, and vainly endeavoured to master himself. 
He affected to smile ; but his face was pale, his 
lips quivered, and his eyes lightened with rage. 
" My Lord Chancellor,' 1 he exclaimed, fiercely, 
" my Lord Chancellor, I beseech you, pardon me. 
I have but a short memory, and you know tfiat I 
have to tell a long tale. If you proceed in this 
way, I shall forget the half of my defence. I have 
no school tricks, nor art of recollection. Unless 
you hear me while I remember, your second charge 
will hammer the first out of my head. 11 Several of 
the counsellors were friends of the earl ; and, 
knowing the acrimony of the Cardinal's taunts, 
which they were themselves often obliged to en- 
3 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 157 

dure, interfered, and entreated that the charges 
might be discussed one by one. Wolsey assenting 
to this, Kildare resumed. ii It is with good rea- 
son that your grace is the mouth of this council ; 
but, my lord, the mouths that put this tale into 
yours are very wide, and have gaped long for my 
ruin. What my cousin Desmond has done I know 
not ; beshrew him for holding out so long. If he 
be taken in the traps that I have set for him, my 
adversaries, by this heap of heinous charges, will 
only have proved their own malice. But if he be 
never taken, what is Kildare to blame more than 
Ossory, who, notwithstanding his high promises, 
and having now the king's power, you see, takes 
his own time to bring him in ? Cannot the Earl of 
Desmond stir, but I must advise ? Cannot he be 
hid, but I must wink ? If he is befriended, am I, 
therefore, a traitor ? It is truly a formidable ac- 
cusation ! My first denial confounds my accusers. 
Who made them so familiar with my sight ? 
When was the earl in my view ? Who stood by 
when I let him slip ? But, say they, I sent him 
word. Who was the messenger ? Where are the 
letters ? Confute my denial. Only see how loose- 
ly this idle gear of theirs hangs together ! Des- 
mond is not taken. Well ! Kildare is in fault. 
Why ? Because he is. Who proves it ? No- 
body. But it is thought, it is said. By whom ? 
His enemies. Who informed them ? They will 
swear it. Will they swear it, my lord ? Why, 



158 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 

then they must know it. Either they have my 
letters to show, or can produce my messengers, or 
were present at a conference, or were concerned 
with Desmond, or somebody betrayed the secret 
to them, or they were themselves my vicegerents 
in the business : which of these points will they 
choose to maintain ? I know them too well, to 
reckon myself convicted by their assertions, hear- 
says, or any oaths which they may swear. My 
letters could soon be read, were any such things 
extant. My servants and friends are ready to be 
sifted. Of my cousin Desmond they may lie 
loudly ; for no man here can contradict. As to 
myself, I never saw in them so much of sense, or of 
integrity, that I would have staked on their silence 
the life of a good hound, far less my own. I doubt 
not, if your honours examine them apart, you will 
find that they are but the tools of others, suborned 
to say, swear, and state any thing but truth ; and 
that their tongues are chained, as it were, to some 
patron's trencher. I am grieved, my Lord Cardi- 
nal, that your Grace, whom I take to be passing 
wise and sharp, and who, of your own blessed dis- 
position, wishes me so well, should be so far gone 
in crediting these corrupt informers that abuse 
your ignorance of Ireland. Little know you, my 
Lord, how necessary it is, not only for the go- 
vernor, but also for every nobleman in that coun- 
try, to hamper his uncivil neighbours at discretion. 
Were we to wait for processes of law, and had not 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 159 

those hearts and hands, of which you speak, we 
should soon lose both lives and lands. You hear 
of our case as in a dream, and feel not the smart 
of suffering that we endure. In England, there 
is not a subject that dare extend his arm to fillip a 
peer of the realm. In Ireland, unless the lord 
have ability to his power, and power to protect 
himself, with sufficient authority to take thieves 
and varlets whenever they stir, he will find them 
swarm so fast, that it will soon be too late to call 
for justice. If you will have our service to effect, 
you must not bind us always to judicial proceedings, 
such as you are blessed with here in England. As 
to my kingdom, my Lord Cardinal, I know not 
what you mean. If your Grace thinks that a 
kingdom consists in serving God, in obeying the 
king, in governing the commonwealth with love, 
in sheltering the subjects, in suppressing rebels, 
in executing justice, and in bridling factions, I 
would gladly be invested with so virtuous and 
royal a state ; but if you call me king because you 
are persuaded that I repine at the government of 
my sovereign, wink at malefactors, and oppress 
well-doers, I utterly disclaim the odious epithet, 
surprised that your Grace should appropriate so 
sacred a name to conduct so wicked. But however 
this may be, I would you and I, my Lord, ex- 
changed kingdoms for one month. I would, in 
that time, undertake to gather more crumbs than 
twice the revenues of my poor earldom. You are 



16*0 CARDINAL WOL8EY. 

safe and warm, my Lord Cardinal, and should not 
upbraid me. While you sleep in your bed of 
down, I lie in a hovel ; while you are served under 
a canopy, I serve under the cope of heaven ; while 
you drink w r ine from golden cups, I must be con- 
tent with water from a shell ; my charger is trained 
for the field, your gennet is taught to amble ; while 
you are be-lorded and be-graced, and crouched and 
knelt to, I get little reverence, but when I cut the 
rebels off by the knees." This spirited retaliation 
touched the Cardinal's pride to the quick ; and it 
was evident that he restrained his passion with the 
greatest difficulty. The counsellors, gratified in 
seeing him so treated, would have laughed, but 
they had not the courage. As Kildare was nei- 
ther to be trifled with nor brow-bcatcn, and the 
evidence was not direct enough to stand the test 
of so shrewd a mind, Wolsey rose from the table, 
and the earl was detained until better proofs could 
be produced. Surrey, who had succeeded to the 
title of Norfolk by the death of his father, be- 
came bail for Kildare to the whole extent of his 
estate and life. The earl, being afterwards par- 
doned, returned home. During the remainder of 
the Cardinal's administration, Ossory continued 
deputy, having superseded the brother of Kildare, 
who had been left in the government when that 
nobleman was summoned to England. He was a 
man of mean qualifications; but, by the assistanee 
of his wife, he ruled with vigour and utility. The 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 161 

countess was a woman of surprising majesty of de- 
meanour, august in her understanding, possessed 
of masculine fortitude, and of wisdom fit for a so- 
vereign. But the merits and virtues of her char- 
acter were chilled and overshadowed by the vast pride 
peculiar to her family. The O'Neals and O'Connors, 
excited by the Fitzgeralds, disturbed the govern- 
ment of her husband. The annals of Ireland, how- 
ever, during the lieutenancy of Ossory, as well as in 
the transactions already related, afford evidence 
honourable to the administration of Wolsey. 

IX. The Reformation, next to the preaching 
of the apostles, is one of the most important oc- 
currences in the history of human affairs. Prior 
to the reign of Henry VIII., the doctrines of the 
gospel had not very obviously affected the public 
transactions of the world. It was only opinions 
and principles, surreptitiously concealed under the 
Christian name, that really guided the policy of 
rulers and the conduct of men. The ritual of the 
church differed but little from that of the pan- 
theon. The distinguishing characteristics of saints 
and demi-gods indicated, indeed, that some change 
had taken place in the notions of mankind ; for, 
before the promulgation of Christianity, the objects 
of admiration were military achievements, and the 
actions which entitled to posthumous reverence 
evinced only superior talents for spreading desola- 
tion and crimes. But, at the epoch of the Refor- 
mation, the same kind of applause was bestowed 



16£ CARDINAL WOXSEY. 

on other qualities ; and the men, who manifested 
in their lives the greatest contempt for the plea- 
sures of sense, were deemed the mirrors of human 
conduct. The change that had taken place in the 
sentiments of the # world, elevated the priest above 
the soldier ; but the attributes of the priest were 
not those of the Christian, and a revolution was 
necessary to prove in what the difference consisted. 
The Reformation effected this. The epoch, how- 
ever, has still to arrive when Christianity shall 
command its proper influence ; although the priest, 
with respect to the Christian, holds now, perhaps, 
the same relative state that the hero did to the 
saint in the days of Cardinal Wolsey. The his- 
tory of the church, — from the age of Charlemagne 
to that of Napoleon, — from the full establishment 
of the papal supremacy to its degradation, — affords 
a various and impressive theme. It demonstrates 
the insignificany of military talents on the destiny 
of mankind, and mortifies the pride of statesmen, 
by showing that their influence is small and second- 
ary, and that they are themselves but the implicit 
agents of deep and general predilections previously 
nourished among the public. 

X. After the death of Charlemagne, the king- 
dom of France fell into great disorder. The ba- 
rons rose in continual hostility against one another, 
and that reprobate barbarity, in which the vices of 
civilization are joined with the atrocities of the sa- 
vage state, menaced the inhabitants. The priest- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 163 

hood attempted to restrain this ruinous anarchy ; 
and, by enjoining fasts, and threatening excom- 
munications, vainly attempted to oppose the inde- 
fatigable spirit of aggression by which it was pro- 
pagated and maintained. Entreaty and exhorta- 
tion having failed, recourse was had to stratagem. 
In the year 1041, Durand, a carpenter in the city 
of Puy, in Avergne, had rendered himself remark- 
able, and a fit instrument for the purposes of the 
clergy, by the warmth of his religious enthusiasm, 
and the simplicity of his heart. One day, while 
alone in the fields, a person, who called himself the 
Redeemer, delivered to him a letter sealed with a 
representation of the sacred mother seated in a 
chair, and holding the infant upon her knee, — a 
device not uncommon for the seals of monasteries. 
The letter was written from Jesus Christ, and ad- 
dressed to the people, entreating them, for his 
sake, to suspend their warfare. Durand conceived 
that he had seen a vision, and he fancied himself 
commissioned, by Divine authority, to be the ad- 
vocate of peace on earth, and of good-will to man. 
The news of the apparition and of the holy letter 
spread far and wide ; and the festival of the As- 
cension being at hand, the bishop requested Du- 
rand to come on that day, and to publish his mis- 
sion in the cathedral. A vast multitude, attracted 
by these circumstances, filled the church. Among 
the spectators were two noblemen of the neigh- 
bourhood, between whom a deadly feud had long 



164 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



been cherished, and which had proved calamitous 
to all within the scope of their conflicts. Durand 
was placed on a high platform in the middle of the 
congregation. Animated by the notion of the su- 
blimity of his trust, he delivered his tale and mes- 
sage with such sincere and fervent eloquence, that 
the whole audience presently began to weep and sigh, 
and to praise the love and compassion of Jesus. The 
hostile noblemen, subdued by benevolent sympathy, 
embraced each other in token of obedience to the 
Redeemer's request, and swore on the Evangelists 
to live in concord and friendship. The attendants 
followed the example of their masters. All among 
the crowd, who had been at variance with each 
other, renounced their animosities. Badges of tin, 
impressed with the figures on the sealing of the 
letter, were distributed, and whoever piously as- 
sumed them, became immediately converted from 
malicious propensities, and, in the presence of those 
who had done them the greatest wrong, forgot their 
revenge, and were filled with charity and love. The 
sympathy of this benevolent superstition spread ra- 
pidly over the whole country ; and the effects were 
so singular, so happy, and apparently so miracu- 
lous, that the tranquillity which ensued was called 
the truce of God. 

XI. The success which attended this strata- 
gem suggested the scheme by which the preaching 
of Peter the hermit, soon after, was rendered still 
more influential. The hermit, in his appearance* 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 165 

resembled the carpenter ; his person was equally 
mean and despicable, and his face and look ordi- 
narily wore the soft and sleepy aspect of idiocy ; 
but he possessed a glowing mind, an eloquent 
tongue, and, when animated by the topics of his 
subject, his countenance beamed with astonishing 
energy, his eyes flashed with the rapture of inspi- 
ration, and none could withstand his call to arise 
and rescue the holy sepulchre. The consistory, 
perceiving the enthusiasm which his active zeal 
had kindled throughout Christendom, contrived 
the means of giving it the semblance of miraculous 
effect. A council was summoned to meet at Cler- 
mont, where many princes and nobles, prepared by 
art, and influenced by the general passion, met the 
pope, who exhorted them to assume the cross, and 
to exert their powers and faculties for the deliver- 
ance of the Holy Land. The priests, tutored for 
the occasion, and the seculars, predisposed by the 
preaching of the hermit, at the conclusion of the 
pope's oration, exclaimed, that God willed all to 
undertake the enterprise ; and therefore they re- 
solved to obey. On the same night their resolu- 
tion was known, it is said, throughout Christen- 
dom, — a circumstance then believed to have been 
effected by supernatural agency, but easy of expla- 
nation, when the regular correspondence among 
all the papal officers, and the predetermined result 
of the council, are considered. 

XII. That holy war lasted nearly two hundred 



166 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

years ; in the course of which a great intercourse 
arose between the remote parts of Christendom, 
and those places which still retained relics of the 
grandeur of Rome, and of the learning of Greece. 
The chiefs and vassals of the West, in their march 
to Palestine, were surprised by the view of arts and 
manners, of which they had never heard. At their 
return, they related their adventures and the 
wonders they had seen. Knowledge was, in con- 
sequence, disseminated. Sometimes they brought 
with them specimens of the productions of those 
strange and splendid regions ; and the exhibition 
of rarities excited a general desire to possess them. 
The spirit of commerce was awakened ; and the 
intercourse, which had been opened by the cru- 
sades, was, after the war, continued in order to 
gratify the demands of the opulent. The revival 
of literature in Italy sprung from this commerce, 
and books became an important branch of trade. 
As the documents of antiquity were multiplied, the 
oral traditions of the clergy fell in estimation, and 
a more precise and authentic style of learning was 
established. This affected the respect previously 
paid to the assertions of the priests. Many things, 
devoutly received on ecclesiastical authority, were 
found very differently stated in the works from 
which it was alleged that they had been derived ; 
and forms and doctrines, considered original in 
Christianity, were discovered to have been of later 
growth— the corrupt engraftings of ancient error. 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 167 

This moral change was quickened to political ef- 
fects by the pontificates of Alexander VI., Julius 
II., and Leo X. ; and the progress of the Lutheran 
heresies showed that the foundations of the papal 
structure were, in the days of Wolsey, deeply un- 
dermined. 

XIII. The church was a government of opinion ; 
and the Cardinal saw that the clergy would be 
compelled to resign their influence over the affairs 
of mankind, unless they could recover that rela- 
tive superiority of knowledge, by which, in ruder 
times, they had acquired the ascendency. What 
stood in his mind as the church of Christ, was the 
pre-eminency of the priesthood. In the conse- 
quences of the Lutheran opinions, he did not affect 
to value the precepts, but only the damage and 
detriment which might ensue to the papal power 
and dignity, were the priests to declare themselves 
independent of each other, and consequently dis- 
solve that mighty confederacy which had so long 
ruled and enjoyed the world. His system of eccle- 
siastical reformation is, therefore, less remarkable 
for its effects on the progress of knowledge, than 
on account of its objects. The aim of his designs 
was to obtain for the priesthood, generally, the 
same kind of influence which the institutes of 
Loyola afterwards so wonderfully ministered to 
procure for the famous society of the Jesuits. It 
was calculated to render them entitled to possess 
superiority, although directed to preserve their ex- 



168 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

elusive privileges. The tendency of human affairs 
is, perhaps, towards the formation of a system, in 
which power shall be possessed by right of intel- 
lectual attainment ; at least, since the period of the 
Reformation, there seems to have been a gradual 
converging of the elements of such a system. The 
influence of the literary character has been evi- 
dently augmented ;. and the unity of sentiment that 
is publicly propagated by the press, in some de- 
gree approximates to the effect of the systematic 
correspondence of the papal clergy. The first ge- 
neral result of the Reformation was the transfer of 
the political power possessed by churchmen into 
the hands of the hereditary class. The necessary 
consequence of this has been, that, as much of the 
detail of ruling depends upon an accurate know 
ledge of law and the principles of equity, the he- 
reditary class should either be distinguished by su- 
perior legal information, or that it should employ, 
as agents and ministers, persons so distinguished. 
And, accordingly, it will not be disputed, that, in 
all protestant nations, the lawyers have superseded 
the clergy in the administration of political justice 
and the rules of life, in which the substance of 
all human power really consists. 

XIV. Erasmus, with his accustomed sycophancy 
towards the prosperous great, describes the Cardi- 
nal's table, surrounded by the wise and learned of 
the age, as furnished with stars which threw a glo- 
rious brightness ; but it does not appear to have 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 169 

been frequented by any person, with the exception, 
perhaps, of Sir Thomas More, whose works con- 
tinue to interest posterity. The object of Wolsey 
was to produce a general effect ; and the history of 
his patronage of literature relates, in consequence, 
more to institutions than to men of genius. In this 
respect, as in his political measures, he differs ad- 
vantageously from Leo X., but he is not so fortu- 
nate in his reputation. His name is not connected 
with that of poets, historians, and artists ; but 
how many men, the pride of England and the or- 
naments of the species, may trace the origin of 
their best attainments to the institutions and efforts 
of Wolsey ! The breadth and solidity of his de- 
signs and undertakings for promoting knowledge, 
entitle him to be placed very high, if not pre-emi- 
nent, among the patrons of learning. He was, in 
the emphatic sense of the term, a Statesman in this ; 
and his munficence to literature was not bestowed on 
individuals, but distributed with a general liberality 
for the perpetual benefit of the realm. The mind 
is disposed to contemplate this part of his policy 
with unmingled satisfaction ; and, notwithstanding 
the overweening ostentation of his household and 
deportment, the aim with which he reformed the 
laws of the universities, founded colleges, and pro- 
cured eminent professors to alter the stagnant state 
of learning, entitle him to be considered as ani- 
mated by that noble ambition which has immor- 
tality for its motive, the improvement of mankind 



170 CARDINAL W'OLSEY. 

for its means, and the gratitude of posterity for its 
reward. 

XV. The fine arts are the offspring of literature, 
which, in civilized nations, always receives some 
new tincture and modification from every general 
calamity. The interest excited by public misfor- 
tunes gives rise to the details of historians, and their 
narratives furnish incidents and materials for the 
descriptions of the poets, from whom the imitative 
arts derive their subjects. In the reign of Henry 
VIII., particularly during the administration of 
Wolsey, scarcely a single work of fancy was pub- 
lished ; but the chronological compilations of that 
period are still the great quarries of English his- 
tory. It was not before the age of Elizabeth that 
the records of the civil wars produced their full 
moral effect ; and the taste, induced by the won- 
derful poets and authors of her time, contributed 
to excite that extraordinary pruriency for the arts, 
which rendered the early part of the reign of 
Charles I. so illustrious. The second age of Eng- 
lish literature followed in a similar manner the agi- 
tated period of the Revolution ; but the character- 
istic of the works of genius produced in the reign 
of queen Anne showed, that the public mind was 
imbued by another class of writers than the histo- 
rians of the country. In the time of Charles II. 
many causes combined to make the nation desirous 
of forgetting the transactions of the Commonwealth. 
The study of the classics of antiquity had been 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 171 

preferred to that of the historians of the preceding 
civil wars ; and, in consequence, the style and sen- 
timents of the Augustan age became imitated in 
the reign of Anne. The necessary effect of this 
was visible in the arts as well as in literature. The 
intricate and exuberant architecture of the ancient 
cathedrals, corresponding to the capricious and 
luxuriant effusions of the aboriginal authors, was 
superseded by an imitation of the Roman models ; 
the style of which corresponded with the simplicity 
of the pruned productions of the press : a general * 
excess of polish almost obliterated originality. >c. " 
XVI. The proficiency which nations make in 
the ornamental arts is always proportioned to the 
prosperity of their domestic circumstances. Italy, 
prior to the invasion by Charles VIII. of France, 
enjoyed a long period of felicity and repose, which 
the gravest historians have described with the 
warmth of poetical enthusiasm. The hills, culti- 
vated to the summits, emulated the fertility of the 
valleys. The cities vied with antiquity in the ele- 
gance of their edifices. The countless ministers of 
superstitious sovereignty, bearing tribute to Rome, 
enhanced the flow of general wealth by the gene- 
rosity of their expenditure ; and commerce poured 
her copious horn, filled with the riches of all na- 
tions, into the lap of Florence, of Genoa, and of 
Venice. Like the illustrious arrangement of an- 
cient Greece before the conquests of Alexander, 
the country was divided into many small states. 



172 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 

The division exposed the whole to the hazard of 
subjugation from without; but the equilibrium 
within afforded to each a happy portion of domes- 
tic security. The inhabitants of all degrees lived 
in comparative fellowship : artists were the com- 
panions of nobles, for the nobles were merchants, 
and fostered the arts to increase the profits of 
trade. The general opulence bestowed the means 
of granting leisure to the studious to design, and 
to the mechanical to execute ; while genius, by 
the activity of competition, was incited to retouch 
and improve its creations. — The state of England 
at that time was far otherwise. The civil wars 
were raging in all their fury. The multitudes 
withdrawn from labour to arms, from producing 
to destroying, increased the toil to the remainder, 
and the public wealth was dilapidated by the re- 
ciprocal havoc of the rival families. During the 
administration of Wolsey, a considerable degree of 
prosperity was recovered ; but the only funds 
which could be allotted to promote knowledge 
were monopolized by the church. All the super- 
fluity of industry, which might have procured sus- 
tenance for genius, was appropriated to support 
the indolence of the clergy. It was therefore only 
by diminishing the number of the monks, and by in- 
ducing the other ecclesiastics to become more active, 
that the great intellectual qualities of the English 
nation could be developed. "While Leo X. 
was enjoying the fruits of the autumn of Italian 



CARDINAL trOLSEY. 173 

genius, Wolsey was labouring where the spring 
had scarcely disclosed a single blossom ; but a rich 
and various harvest has since amply justified the 
liberality of the preparation, and his confidence in 
the soil. 

XVII. Warton, in speaking of the state of 
poetry in the reign of Henry VIII., observes, that 
the marriage of a princess of England with a king 
of Scotland must have contributed to improve the 
literature and arts of the Scottish nation. But the 
observation is unphilosophical, and contrary to 
historical fact. If diplomatic correspondence and 
the occasional visits of courtiers have any effect on 
the progress of nations, the English were more 
likely to have been indebted to the Scots ; for the 
court of Edinburgh possessed at that time several 
professors of elegant literature, that rivalled in 
taste and propriety of phraseology even the Italian 
poets, while that of London was only a dormitory 
of cumbrous divines. But the literature of nations 
is rarely improved by the alliances of princes, and 
seldom promoted by the munificence of courtiers. 
Which of the great authors of England was in- 
debted for opulence to the patronage of the sove- 
reigns ? With the exception of the vain and pre- 
sumptuous Louis XIV., there is not an instance 
on record of a monarch who regarded the foster- 
ing of knowledge as a part of his regal duty ; and 
for many years a mere literary character at the 
levees of a British king has been almost as rare as 



\ 



174 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the phoenix of the poets among the birds of Egypt ; 
and yet the literature of the nation has certainly 
not declined. It was the personal predilections of 
James IV. of Scotland which drew around him the 
poets of his country ; and the ecclesiastical bent of 
Henry VIII. operated in a similar manner to fill 
the court of England with theologians. Hence 
the origin of the peculiarities of English and Scot- 
tish literature in the time of Cardinal Wolsey. 

XVIII. The college of physicians, which was 
founded in the year 1518, was the first national 
institution which the Cardinal patronised for the 
improvement of knowledge. Prior to that event 
the state of the medical science was very low in 
England. It was only remarkable for ingenious 
hypotheses, unsupported by the evidence of facts, 
and for a credulous faith on astrological influence, 
equally visionary. The kingdom, particularly Lon- 
don, had been often visited by a most destructive 
pestilence, the Sweating Sickness, — a disease which 
was deemed peculiar to the English climate, but 
which has since been happily eradicated. The in- 
fected died within three hours after the first symp- 
toms ; and no cure could be found. The admi- 
nistration of justice was suspended during its con- 
tinuance, and the court removed from place to 
place with precipitation and fear. Half the peo- 
ple in some parts of the country were swept away, 
and the principal trade practised was in coffins and 
shrouds; but even that, in the progress of the 



CARDINAL YTOLSEY. 175 

plague, was generally abandoned. At London, 
vast sepulchral pits were prepared every morning, 
into which the victims were thrown promiscuously. 
The only sounds in the city during the day were 
the doleful monotony of unceasing knells, and the 
lamentations of the , tainted, deserted by their 
friends, crying from the windows to the passengers 
to pray for them. The door of almost every house 
was marked with a red cross, the sign that the de- 
stroying angel had been there ; and all night, 
as the loaded wheels of the death-waggons rolled 
heavily along, a continual voice cried, — " Bring 
out your dead."— To "discover a remedy, or some 
mode of averting the recurrence of this terrible ca- 
lamity, the king, at the suggestion of Dr Linacre, 
was induced to establish the college of physicians : 
among others mentioned in the charter as the ad- 
visers of this beneficial institution, Wolsey is par- 
ticularly named. 

XIX. The Cardinal was several years minister 
before he came forward conspicuously as the patron 
of national instruction. He had been previously 
the Maecenas of individuals ; but the history of his 
munificence to literature relates chiefly to public 
institutions. The character of his mind fitted him 
to act happily only with wide and prospective consid- 
erations. The warmth of his temper, and the pride 
of conscious greatness, however high his aims, and 
noble his motives, rendered him harsh in familiar 
intercourse, and unqualified to acquire the affection 



176 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 

of those men of endowment and knowledge whom 
ostentation invited to his house, and affluence en- 
tertained. The court happened to be at Abington 
in the year 1523, and a deputation of the heads of 
the colleges being sent from Oxford to pay the 
compliments of the university, the queen was after- 
wards induced to visit that city, accompanied by 
Wolsey. They were received with the customary 
ceremonies ; and the Cardinal, in reply to the ora- 
tion which was addressed to him, declared that he 
had the interests of his parental university much 
at heart, and that he was desirous of substantially 
evincing his filial attachment. He accordingly 
proposed to found certain public lectures, and of- 
fered to undertake the revisal of the statutes, 
which were at variance in tenor with one another, 
and adverse in spirit to the prosperity of learning. 
These proposals were gladly received, and letters 
on the subject were without delay sent to the chan- 
cellor, Archbishop Warham. This jealous and 
captious old man was sensibly affected by every 
thing that tended to the aggrandisement of Wol- 
sey ; and therefore, although he could not possibly 
object to the institution of the lectures, he strenu- 
ously opposed the plan of committing to him the 
revision of the statutes. In the end, however, he 
was constrained to yield his personal antipathy for 
the public advantage ; and the senate, in full con- 
vocation, decreed that the laws should he placed 
in the Cardinal's hands to be corrected, reformed, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 177 

changed or expunged, as he in his discretion should 
think fit. Cambridge soon after adopted the same 
measure, and even exceeded Oxford in adulation* 
The address voted on the occasion declared that the 
statutes were submitted to be modelled according 
to his judgment, as by a true and settled standard ; 
for he was considered as a man sent by a special 
order of Divine Providence for the benefit of man- 
kind* In order to evince still more the unlimited 
extent of this confidence, the senate conferred on 
him the power for life of legislating for the univer- 
sity ; and proposed to honour his memory with 
perpetual yearly commemorations. These acts of 
homage, in themselves remarkable proofs of the 
ready subserviency of public bodies to the existing 
powers, are worthy of observation, as they form 
an important sera in the history of English litera- 
ture. From the date of the revisal of the statutes 
by Cardinal Wolsey, the progress of popular learn- 
ing, and the improvement of the language, were 
rapid and extraordinary in the universities ; in 
which, prior to that epoch, there Was scarcely a 
member distinguished by any proficiency in prac- 
tical knowledge. They were inhabited only by 
men who had dozed into corpulency over the pon- 
derous folios of scholastic divinity ; and it was pro- 
bably less on account of any advantage that was 
expected to arise to the public from improving her 
statutes that Cambridge addressed the Cardinal 
with such idolatrous adulation, and invested him 

M 



178 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

with such supreme power, than with the view of 
inducing him to prefer her for the seat of a college, 
which, it was then rumoured, he intended to build 
on a plan of the greatest magnificence. It is, how- 
ever, but justice to add, that Cambridge very early 
became a candidate for his patronage ; for when 
he was only Bishop of Lincoln, she offered him her 
chancellorship, which he then declined. 

XX. When he had instituted at Oxford the lec- 
tures of which he had given notice during his visit 
with the queen, he proceeded with the design of 
Christ-church college. The foundations were laid 
soon after the news arrived in London of the battle 
of Favia. This noble edifice stands on the site of 
a priory, the brotherhood of which had for a long 
time given such scandal by their profligacy, that 
the design of dispersing them, and of converting 
their revenues and buildings to the uses of learning, 
had been entertained several years before. The 
preamble of the patent by which the king assigned 
to the Cardinal the property of the monasteries 
dissolved by virtue of his legatine commission, and 
destined for the support of his lectures and college, 
highly commends his administration of the national 
affairs; and declares, that, in consideration of his 
having so ably sustained the weight of the govern- 
ment for several years, the grant was made as a 
testimony to posterity of the sense entertained of 
his services. By a draft of the statutes written by 
Wolsey himself, it appears that the permanent 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 179 

members of the college were intended to consist of 
a dean, a subdean, sixty canons of the first rank, 
and forty of the second, thirteen chaplains, twelve 
clerks, and sixteen choristers, with professors of 
rhetoric, medicine, philosophy, mathematics, Greek, 
theology, and law, besides four censors of manners 
and examiners of the proficiency of the students, 
three treasurers, four stewards, and twenty inferior 
servants. A revenue was set apart for the enter- 
tainment of strangers, the relief of the poor, and 
the maintenance of horses for college business. 
The architectural design of the building was of 
corresponding magnitude ; and had it been com- 
pleted according to the plan of the founder, few 
royal palaces would have surpassed it in splendour 
and extent. The project by which he proposed to 
furnish the library was worthy of the general de- 
sign. He took measures to obtain copies of all the 
manuscripts in the Vatican, in addition to the or- 
dinary means of procuring books. 

XXI. Soon after his return from the great em- 
bassy to France, he laid the foundations of a pub- 
lic school at Ipswich, his native town. It was in- 
tended to be a preparatory seminary for the col- 
lege, similar to the school at Winchester founded 
by William of Wickham, and to that at Eton by 
Henry VI. ; both of which were instituted with 
the same relative view to their respective colleges 
in Oxford and Cambridge. The funds appropriat- 
ed for the support of this institution were chiefly 



180 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

drawn from the revenues of dissolved monasteries. 
The town had, before that time, a free grammar 
school endowed with certain property vested in the 
hands of the magistrates, who, at the Cardinal's 
request, judiciously assigned it to the new school, 
the more extensive purposes of which superseded 
the utility of continuing the other. He ordered a 
grammar to be prepared for the use of the students, 
and wrote a prefatory address, in which he speaks 
of the institution as designed to promote the educa- 
tion of British youth, — an expression that seems to 
indicate something like an expectation of an ulti- 
mate union of the crowns of the island. This is, 
perhaps, the only literary production of Wolsey 
entitled to be considered as a publication. His ac- 
quirements as a scholar were indeed rather proofs 
of the generality and vigour of his talents, than 
evidence of the quality of his intellectual powers as 
compared with those of others. The length and ful- 
ness of his public despatches, and the variety of 
circumstances which he comprehends within the 
scope of his topics, entitle them to be regarded, in 
many instances, as dissertations on the events and 
proceedings of the time. His style, at once power- 
ful, circumstantial, and diffuse, conveys so ample 
an exposition of his meaning, that he never fails to 
fill the mind of the reader with a complete concep- 
tion of what he aims to produce. His sentences 
are sometimes involved, and often indefinite ; but 
he pours forth such an amazing breadth of ox- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 181 

planation, that the general effect is irresistible. In 
this respect, the character of his eloquence may be 
compared to a large stream flowing through a 
marshy country ; though the main current be clear, 
impetuous, and strong, the bounds and banks are 
shoaly, sedgy, unequal, irregular, and undefined. 

XXII. Wolsey, as lord chancellor, had often 
as much occasion to observe the ignorance of the 
lawyers, as in his episcopal capacity that of the 
clergy ; and he has been described as often inter- 
rupting the pleadings of the barristers, and bitter- 
ly animadverting on their want of knowledge. To 
remedy an evil which troubled the public jurispru- 
dence at the fountain-head, and made its necessary 
ramifications only so many distributors of disorder 
and vexation, he projected an institution, to be 
founded in London, in which the study of law 
should be efficiently cultivated. The scheme was 
consonant to the general liberality of his views, and 
perhaps is still requisite. The architectural model 
for the building was considered a masterpiece, and 
remained, long after his death, as a curiosity in the 
palace at Greenwich. 

XXIII. In the prosecution of these munificent 
purposes, the Cardinal was obliged to contend with 
the opposition and to endure the obloquy of every 
rank and class of the nation. The courtiers, whom 
his lordliness mortified into enemies, lost no oppor- 
tunity of repeating to the king every omission, 
however trivial, in the multitude of the affairs 



182 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

which he undertook to direct ; and insinuated, that 
he excelled the other ministers only in the boldness 
of his pretensions. But on such occasions Henry 
always vindicated the sincerity of his own character, 
and repressed with becoming manliness the intru- 
sions of envy. The censorial court, which Wolsey 
had instituted by virtue of his commission as le- 
gate, was an intolerable and continual offence to the 
priesthood. Allen, his chaplain, whom he had ap- 
pointed the judge, and who was afterwards Bishop 
of Dublin, exercised his functions with harshness, 
and sometimes with partiality. His conduct gave 
warrantry to discontents which had originated in 
the jurisdictions of the office ; and old Warham, 
who was greedy of accusations against the Cardi- 
nal, availing himself of some particular instance of 
impropriety on the part of Allen, complained to 
the king of the legatine court. Henry observed 
to him, that " no man is so blind as in his own 
house ; but for you, father, I should not have 
heard of this matter ; I pray you therefore go to 
Wolsey, and tell him, if there be any thing amiss 
in these proceedings to amend it." The malicious 
love of justice, which dictated this complaint, was 
probably for that time frustrated ; but an occasion 
soon after occurred of making a special charge 
against the conduct of the Cardinal himself. He 
advanced a lady, who had sullied her youth by 
carnal indiscretion, to be abbess of the nunnery of 
Winton. Henry was speedily informed of the ap- 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 183 

pointment, and immediately expostulated with Wol- 
sey, mentioning at the same time that the gifts, 
which were bestowed by the monasteries to pro- 
mote the building of his colleges, were suspected of 
being corruptly given, in order to save themselves 
from the visits of the legatine officers ; remarking, 
that this was the more probably true, as they had 
never shown any such generosity to the necessities 
of their sovereign ; and with the frank earnestness 
of friendship, he entreated him to rectify such 
abuses. Fortunately for the Cardinal, the appoint- 
ment of the prioress was subject to the approba- 
tion of the king ; and he submitted himself so 
humbly, in consequence of the severity of the re- 
buke, that Henry immediately and kindly re-as- 
sured him of his entire confidence ; at the same 
time he still seemed to doubt the propriety of ap- 
propriating the funds of the monasteries to the 
purposes of learning ; and he informed him that 
it was generally murmured throughout the nation, 
that the colleges but furnished a cloak to cover the 
misdemeanours of avarice. The conduct of Henry 
on this occasion merits applause, both as a man 
and as a monarch. He showed himself jealous of 
his own honour and the rights of public property, 
but he had confidence in the integrity and high 
views of his minister. While he therefore inform- 
ed Wolsey of the complaints against him, he trusted 
that his discretion would obviate them for the fu- 
ture. The event was of importance to the Cardinal. 



184 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

It opened his eyes to the depth and extent of his 
danger, and showed him that he had no other de- 
pendence than the precarious favour of a prince. 
He saw that the envy of his greatness, which had 
been fomented into malice by the success of his 
measures, was deadly, and he endeavoured to les- 
sen its virulence by reducing the ostentation that 
served to augment it. He resigned to the king the 
palace of Hampton ; and, in his intercourse with 
the other members of the council, lowered the su- 
periority with which he had so long dictated the 
measures of the government. But this alteration 
was calculated rather to encourage the hopes of his 
enemies, than to lessen the avidity with whioh they 
desired his destruction. The king, it is true, after 
the affair of the prioress of Winton, continued to 
evince the same unlimited friendship as formerly, 
but the irritation of that occasion unconsciously 
predisposed him for similar impressions. 



BOOK VI. 



The grandeur of Wolsey continued to increase 
until he became possessed of greater power than, 
perhaps, any subject before his time had ever en- 
joyed, He was virtually the head of the church 
in England ; prime political minister ; the chief 
judge of law and equity ; legislator of the two 
universities ; arbiter of disputes between the king 
and foreign princes ; and his income was supposed 
to be equal to the amount of the royal revenues. 
But the full and perfect round of reflected splen- 
dour was destined to wane, and to suffer at last a 
total extinction. In all the vicissitudes of his 
master's humours he had still preserved the first 
place in his esteem. The clamours of the clergy 
failed to disturb this unlimited confidence. The 
impartial justice of his conduct as a judge, though 
offensive to the pretensions of the nobility, afford- 
ed no plausible ground upon which his integrity 
could be impeached. His views of foreign policy 
reaching beyond the age in which he lived, and 
comprehending the interests of posterity, wero 



186 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

never popular ; far less the financial measures 
which they led him to adopt ; but the success of 
his plans for advancing the political importance of 
the nation, gratified the ambition of Henry ; and, 
in those days, public opinion was a trifle in com- 
parison with royal favour. At length, however, 
the same lofty arrogance of principle which show- 
ed itself so proud and stubborn to the clergy, the 
nobility, and the people, was to be found at vari- 
ance with the wishes of the sovereign himself ; and 
it was Wolsey's fate to furnish one of the most 
striking instances of the instability of fortune, and 
the ingratitude of despotic power, which the whole 
compass of history affords 

II. Katherine, Henry's queen, had been previ- 
ously married to his brother Arthur, the prince of 
Wales. Arthur was then only in his sixteenth 
year, but he was a vigorous and healthful youth, 
and he and Katherine lived more than four months 
together as man and wife. Their bed on the 
wedding-night, according to a custom of that age, 
was solemnly blest, — a ceremony which certainly 
implied confidence in the maturity of the parties. 
A statement of presumptive evidence in favour of 
the consummation of the marriage was transmitted 
by the Spanish ambassador to his sovereign ; and 
hints to the same effect had been given by the 
prince himself on the morning after the nuptials. 
In consequence of this, when Arthur died, Henry 
was not created Prince of Wales, until it waa 



CARDINAL frOLSEY. 187 

ascertained, by time, that the princess was not with 
child. 

III. The political motives which led to the 
union of Arthur and Katherine did not terminate 
with the life of the prince ; but, although they 
had ceased to be of primary influence, still the 
large dowry of the princess, which Henry VII. 
might have been obliged to refund, was of itself 
sufficient to induce that avaricious tyrant to devise 
the plan of marrying her to her husband's brother, 
then in his boyhood. Against this incestuous 
expedient Archbishop Warham strongly remon- 
strated ; but a bull was, notwithstanding, obtained 
from Julius II. to authorise and sanctify its ac- 
complishment. In this bull, it was plainly stated, 
that the princess had been lawfully married to 
Prince Arthur, and the marriage probably con- 
summated ; but that the prince having died with- 
out issue, therefore, in order to preserve amity 
between the crowns of Spain and England, and 
peace among catholic kings, the pope dispensed 
with the impediments of affinity between Henry 
and his brother's widow, and gave them leave to 
marry, or even, if already united, confirmed their 
marriage. Many of the cardinals disapproved of 
this extraordinary concession ; but, as it was thought 
to promote the interests of the papacy, their oppo- 
sition was ineffectual, and soon hushed. It was ima- 
gined that the future kings of England, descend- 
ants of this marriage, would be induced to main- 



188 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tain that authority from which their right to the 
crown was derived. But the design, in the sequel, 
proved fatal to the fraudulent system which it was 
expected so essentially to support. 

IV. Soon after the union of Henry and Katherine, 
the old king began to doubt the rectitude of what 
he had done, and his conscience grew 60 irksome 
and unquiet, that when the prince attained the age 
of fourteen, at which period the law allows the 
heirs of the English throne to exercise the rights 
of judgment, he commanded him to protest that, 
being under age, he had been married to the Prin- 
cess Katherine, but now he did not confirm that 
marriage ; on the contrary, that he intended to 
make it void. This protestation was made in pre- 
sence of many of the nobility and clergy. Not 
satisfied with merely obtaining the avowal of an 
intention, the king, as he lay on his death-bed, 
earnestly exhorted the prince to break off the in- 
cestuous connexion. An exhortation, in itself so 
solemn and penitential, though it might be ne- 
glected in the thoughtlessness of youth, was calcu- 
lated to return upon the imagination with increased 
effect, when recalled by occurrences that might be 
construed into manifestations of the Divine dis- 
pleasure. 

V. One of the first questions which, after the 
death of Henry VII., came before the council, was 
whether the marriage should be annulled or con- 
Mimmated. The arguments for the consummation 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 189 

prevailed ; and moral delicacy was sacrificed to po- 
litical expediency. The king was again married 
to his brother's widow, and their public coronation 
followed. From that time, the legality of the con- 
nexion remained undisputed, and several children, 
of whom the Princess Mary alone survived, were 
the issue. 

VI. Katherine having fallen into ill health, Hen- 
ry had for several years deserted her bed. Seeing 
no likelihood of her giving a male heir to the 
crown, he became restless in mind, and imagined 
that the curse pronounced in Scripture against the 
man who takes his brother's wife, had come upon 
them, and that he was fated to die childless. The 
marriage having been hitherto undisputed, he was 
not led to think of dissolving it till the year 1527, 
when, in the progress of the treaty of affinity ne- 
gotiated with Francis, the French minister objected 
to the legitimacy of the princess, on the ground 
that the marriage, of which she was the fruit, had 
been contracted in violation of a Divine precept 
which no human authority could controvert. Some 
time before, the council of Spain had made similar 
observations, and, on the doubtfulness of the mat- 
ter, endeavoured to justify the dissolution of the 
contract of Charles and Mary. 

VII. From all these circumstances, it is evident 
that Henry's scruples arose from events which 
happened before Wolsey's introduction at court, 
and were strengthened by occurrences over which 



190 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

he had no control. The king first disclosed them 
to his confessor, and, probably, soon after to the 
Cardinal ; but there is no evidence to ascribe their 
origin to the art of the one, or the machinations of 
the other. Nor with greater justice can it be al- 
leged, that the scruples were forged to disguise a 
criminal passion for Ann Bullen, although it will 
appear, in the course of the subsequent transac- 
tions, that the influence of her charms in no small 
degree added to their weight. The controversies 
relative to the royal marriage lasted several years ; 
and many circumstances in Henry's conduct dur- 
ing that time served to show that he was affected 
by other motives as well as by his partiality for 
that lady. In the early stages of the business, he 
seems to have been actuated by a real anxiety for 
his religious welfare. Before bringing it into pub- 
lic discussion, he had satisfied his own mind that 
the marriage was contrary to the levitical laws. 
The next question which presented itself was, 
whether the pope possessed the power of dispens- 
ing with a precept of Divine institution ? and it 
might readily occur to him, that the observance of 
any law can only be set aside by an authority 
equal to that by which it was at first enacted. 
The prerogative of the sovereign pontiff to alter 
the laws of the church was admitted ; but the le- 
vitical laws, being promulgated immediately from 
Heaven, could not be set aside or suspended by 
any human decision. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 191 

VIII. Henry, in this stage of his reflections, 
communicated to Wolsey his determination to try 
the question publicly, and requested to know what 
he thought of it. The Cardinal was struck with 
alarm ; and, instantly foreboding the consequences 
of such a resolution, fell on his knees, and im- 
plored the king to abandon a design so hostile to 
the faith of which he was the declared champion 
and defender ; especially while the whole structure 
of the church was rent with schism, and shaken 
from roof to foundation by the tempest of the Lu- 
theran controversies. Nor could he omit to point 
out the political evils of incurring the enmity of 
the queen's relations, and the certainty that her 
nephew the emperor would violently endeavour to 
revenge the insult which the proceeding would be 
to his family. But Henry was not to be persuaded 
from his resolution ; he insisted upon knowing 
Wolsey's opinion of the abstract question. The 
Cardinal, in order to gain time, and possibly with 
a hope that some accident might occur to alter the 
king's mind, begged that, in a matter of such im- 
portance, he might be allowed to confer previously 
with persons better versed in the divine and civil 
laws. A request so reasonable was readily grant- 
ed ; and, accordingly, by virtue of his legatine 
commission, he summoned the bishops, and the 
learned of the universities and cathedrals, to meet 
him for that purpose at Westminster. 

IX. If the Cardinal was of opinion at first, that 



*92 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

the validity of the marriage ought not to be called 
in question, the case was materially altered when 
the king's doubts had become publicly known, and 
were communicated to his subjects. It then be- 
came his duty to bring the matter to a speedy is- 
sue, and to hasten proceedings which involved the 
legitimacy of the royal offspring, and which, in the 
event of the king's premature death, might again 
entail on the nation the miseries of a disputed suc- 
cession. As a prince of the church, he was bound 
to maintain the papal authority, by an undeviating 
adherence to every canon and formality in the 
course of a process of such importance. He is, 
therefore, in the progress of the divorce, to be re- 
garded as acting in a double capacity, as the mi- 
nister of the king and of the pope. To both he 
was bound to act with fidelity. The service of the 
one was contrary to the interests of the other. His 
situation was extraordinary, and his difficulties 
without a precedent. He was placed in a situation 
where his honesty had the effect of making him 
equally offensive to both parties; and integrity, 
almost necessarily, exposed him to the suspicion of 
partiality and equivocation. Neither ought the 
private peculiarities of his condition at this time to 
be forgotten. He had reached the most enviable 
place of dignity, where he had not one real friend 
connected with his fate. His unmitigated perse- 
verance in the reformation of the clerical abuses 
had filled the great body of the priesthood with 

8 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 193 

implacable resentment ; his steady maintenance of 
the papal pretensions exposed him to the hatred of 
the Lutheran reformers ; his severe administration 
of justice exasperated the pride of the nobility ; 
his expensive foreign policy made him no less ob- 
noxious to the people ; and his successful career 
provoked that antipathy which contemporaries ever 
feel against ttie successful, especially when success 
is obtruded by ostentation. The queen had long 
been aware of his great influence over her hus- 
band ; and, as he appeared active and anxious in 
the investigation of the validity of the marriage, 
it was not surprising that she should ascribe the 
origin of the question in a great measure to him. 
Even Ann Bullen, of whom Henry had in the 
meantime become enamoured, was secretly his ene- 
my, and longed for an opportunity of gratifying 
her resentment. 

X. When the king's sister was married to Louis 
XII. Ann Bullen, then only seven years old, went 
in her train to Paris ; and, after the death of Louis, 
when her mistress returned to England, she re- 
mained behind as one of the attendants at the 
French court ; where her beauty and sprightliness 
had made her a general favourite. After the death 
of Claud, the queen of Francis, she was attached 
to the household of his sister, the Duchess of Alen- 
con, with whom she remained until about the pe- 
riod when the scruples of Henry became publicly 
known, at which time she returned to England ; 



194 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

and was, soon after her arrival, appointed one of 
the maids of honour to the queen. Among the 
young noblemen then retained by the Cardinal was 
Lord Percy, eldest son of the Earl of Northum- 
berland, between whom and Ann Bullen an attach- 
ment arose, and it became known that they were 
actually betrothed. Henry, having begun to en- 
tertain a passion for the lady, requested Wolsey, 
when informed of the circumstance, to remonstrate 
with the young lord on the impropriety of the con- 
nexion. The Cardinal accordingly severely re- 
proved Percy for matching himself with one so 
far below his condition. But the lover defended 
his choice, maintaining, that in point of lineage and 
relationship she was not his inferior. Her mother 
was a daughter of the Duke of Norfolk ; her pa- 
ternal grandmother was scarcely less eminent, be- 
ing one of the daughters of the Earl of Wiltshire 
and Ormond ; and her grandfather, though him- 
self only a lord mayor of London, had married a 
daughter of Lord Hastings. The Cardinal, seeing 
Percy so fixed in his attachment, sent for the Earl 
of Northumberland ; by whose decisive interfer- 
ence the alliance was dissolved. Percy was enjoin- 
ed to avoid the lady s s company, and she was dis- 
charged from court. Nor was she recalled until 
after his marriage with a daughter of the Earl of 
Shrewsbury. She was then not long in discover- 
ing that the king viewed her with eyes of admira- 
tion ; but she never forgave the Cardinal for de- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 195 

priving her of Percy. She considered the banquets 
of which she partook with the court at his palace 
only as offerings to propitiate her rising influence, 
and the idea increased her resentment. But it was 
still necessary that she should dissemble ; and, to in- 
gratiate herself the more with the king, she treated 
the Cardinal with the utmost external respect. 
Her vanity grew giddy with the expectation of the 
crown, long before it was likely that she could re- 
ceive it ; and, enriched by the profusion of her 
royal lover, she assumed an immodest ostentation 
of finery. 

XI. The queen, dejected by infirm health, be- 
held with humility the indecorous advancement of 
her gentlewoman ; and, with ineffectual meekness, 
endeavoured to win back the affections of her hus- 
band. She even seemed to be pleased with her 
rival, bewailing only in secret that unhappy des- 
tiny which, in a foreign country, had reduced her- 
self so low. The generosity of the people was 
awakened in her favour, and they quickly found 
out sufficient reasons to account for the conduct 
both of Henry and his minister. They observed 
that the emperor was no longer treated as a friend ; 
and without troubling themselves to appreciate the 
events which, from the battle of Pavia, had changed 
the political interests of England, they accused 
Wolsey of being actuated against Katherine by 
revenge for slights and disappointments received 
from her nephew. The notoriety of the king's af- 



196 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

fection for Ann Bullen was no less a satisfac- 
tory explanation of his motives; although he 
had before violated his conjugal fidelity, and 
afterwards returned to the queen, whose virtues 
and chaste demeanour he had never ceased to 
esteem. That Ann Bullen was frequently seen 
at those entertainments where the Cardinal de- 
lighted to exhibit his magnificence, is rather a proof 
of the lax morality of the Court, than evidence of 
any deliberate design on his part either to aid her 
promotion, or to mortify the queen. Towards her, 
indeed, he appears never to have entertained any 
particular partiality ; and it has been alleged, that 
one of the causes which hastened his ruin was her 
apprehension that, in the event of the marriage 
being annulled, he would exert his influence to 
provide a more honourable match for the king. 
She vindictively remembered the frustration of her 
first love, and dreaded the disappointment of her 
ambition. 

XII. While the Cardinal was in France on his 
great embassy, the first messenger on the subject 
of the marriage was sent to Rome. It is not very 
clearly ascertained whether the message related to 
the king's scruples, or only to procure such a legi- 
timation by the pope of the princess's birth as 
should obviate the doubts which had been sug- 
gested. The earliest regular despatch written on 
the subject of the divorce is dated five months 
posterior. By it the king's agents at Rome appear 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 197 

to have been previously informed of the state of 
their master's mind ; for in reporting the opinion 
of the learned as to the illegality of dispensations 
granted contrary to the divine laws, the Cardinal 
urges the expediency of allowing a divorce to pass, 
not only to avert the future miseries of a disputed 
succession, but to appease the inquietude of the 
king's conscience. Nor were bribes omitted to pro- 
cure the compliance of his holiness ; who granted, 
in consequence, a commission to investigate the 
case, and to proceed with the business in England. 
Before it arrived, Henry transmitted an application 
for a special legate to be sent to London for the pur- 
pose. This new request was communicated by the 
pope to two of the cardinals ; and, in a conference 
held with them in presence of the English agents, 
he expressed himself to the following effect : — 
" Wolsey, by the commission already issued, or by 
his extraordinary general legatine authority, is, I 
conceive, fully empowered to proceed in this affair 
If the king in his own conscience be convinced of 
the rectitude of his intentions, and there is no doc- 
tor in the world more able to settle the point than 
himself, he should accelerate judgment, and then 
send for a legate to confirm what he has done. 
For it will be easier to ratify what cannot be re- 
called, than to terminate such a process in the court 
of Rome. The queen may protest against the place 
and the judge, by which, in the course of law, I 
shall be obliged to prohibit the king from marrying 



198 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

while the suit is pending, and must revoke the 
trial to Rome. But if j udgment were given in Eng- 
land, and the king married to another wife, very 
good reasons might be found to justify the confirm 
mation of a decision that had gone so far." This 
equivocal mode of proceeding was not agreeable to 
Henry ; and Wolsey informed the pope that the 
king was resolved that the business should be so 
conducted as to prevent all discontent at home and 
cavilling abroad. He therefore entreated that ano- 
ther cardinal might be joined with him in the com- 
mission for the trial. This application was the 
result of a debate which had taken place in the 
English cabinet on the arrival of the first commis- 
sion. It was apprehended, that if Wolsey were 
to give sentence in the king's favour, the pope, 
being then on all sides surrounded by the emperor's 
forces, might be deterred from confirming it ; and 
it was intimated, in the course of the discussion, 
that if his holiness continued to act in a manner 
subservient to the will of Charles, some other way 
must be found to relieve the mind of the king. 
What that way was likely to be, the Cardinal was 
well aware, and in consequence addressed Clement 
with uncommon vehemence and eloquent anxiety. 
He entreated his holiness as if he were prostrate at 
his feet ; that if he thought him a Christian, a 
good cardinal, and not unworthy of that dignity ; 
a promoter of justice, or believed that he desired 
his own eternal salvation ; to grant kindly and 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 199 

speedily the king's earnest request ; " which, if I 
did not know," said Wolsey, " to be just and 
right, I would undergo any hazard of punishment 
rather than promote it. And I fear, if the king 
find you so overawed by the emperor as not to al- 
low what all Christendom considers as authorised 
by divine authority, that he, and other Christian 
princes, will not only contemn, but curtail the 
apostolical power.'" The result of this and other 
representations to the same purpose, with the more 
effectual advocacy of tangible motives, was the ap- 
pointment of Cardinal Campeggio to go to Eng- 
land, in order to try the validity of the marriage 
in conjunction with Wolsey. This prelate held 
the bishopric of Salisbury, and was supposed to 
be favourable to the wishes of the English court ; 
but in the sequel he acted with independence and 
perhaps integrity. 

XIII. Katherine in the meantime was not idle. 
She informed Charles of her situation, and re- 
ceived the strongest assurances of his support. 
The people also were strenuous in her cause. Her 
gentle manners, innocent infirmities, and deserted 
condition, excited their compassion, and roused 
their indignation to such a degree against those 
whom they considered her enemies, that the king 
found it necessary to make a public declaration of 
his motives to the peers, the clergy, the judges, and 
lawyers of the realm. " It is now almost twenty 
years,' 1 said he, " since we began our reign among 



200 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

you ; in the course of which we have, by the as- 
sistance of Providence, so behaved ourself, that we 
hope you have no cause to complain, nor our ene- 
mies to glory. No foreign power has attempted 
to injure you with impunity ; nor have we em- 
ployed our arms without victory. Whether you 
regard the fruits of peace or the trophies of war, 
we dare boldly aver, that we have shown ourselves 
not unworthy of our ancestors. But when we re- 
flect on the end of frail life, we are surprised by 
fear lest the miseries of future times obscure the 
splendour and memory of our present felicity. 
We see here many who, by their age, may have 
been witnesses of the late civil wars, which, for 
eighty years together, so dreadfully afflicted this 
kingdom. No man knew whom to acknowledge 
for his sovereign, until the happy union of our pa- 
rents removed the cause of this doubt. Consider, 
then, whether, after our death, you may hope for 
better days than when the factions of York and 
Lancaster distracted the nation? — We have a 
daughter, whom we the more affectionately love 
because she is our only child. But it is proper to 
inform you, that, treating with the French king 
concerning a match with her and our godson, 
Henry Duke of Orleans, one of his privy-counsel- 
lors objected to the legitimacy of the princess, her 
mother having been married to our deceased bro- 
ther ; alleging, at the same time, that the marriage 
with our queen could not be detuned otherwise 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 201 

than incestuous. How much this allegation af- 
flicted us, God, the searcher of hearts, only knows. 
For the question affected not only our consort and 
daughter, but implied the danger of eternal punish- 
ment to our souls, if, after being admonished of 
such horrible incest, we did not endeavour to 
amend. For your parts, you cannot but foresee 
the evils with which this matter is pregnant to you 
and your posterity. Desirous of being resolved 
on a point so important, we first conferred with our 
friends, and then with men the most learned in hu- 
man and divine laws ; but they gave no satisfac- 
tion, and only left us more perplexed. We then 
had recourse to the pope, and procured the vener- 
able legate, who has lately arrived from Rome, to 
investigate the case. For the queen, whatever 
may be the detractions of women and tatlers, we 
willingly and openly profess that, because in noble- 
ness of mind she far transcends the greatness of 
her birth, were we now at liberty and free to 
choose, among all the beauties of the world, we 
would not, as we take God to witness, make choice 
of any other. In mildness, prudence, sanctity of 
mind, and conversation, she is not to be paralleled. 
But we were given to the world for other ends 
than the pursuit of our own pleasure. We, there- 
fore, prefer the hazard of uncertain trial, rather 
than commit impiety against Heaven, and ingrati- 
tude against our country, the weal and safety of 
which every man should prefer before his life and 



202 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

fortune." — This oration affected the audience in 
different ways : some lamented the king's anxiety, 
but many more the situation of the queen, and all 
doubted and feared the result. The boisterous 
generosity of the people, decidedly in her favour, 
was not easily controlled ; and the declaration of 
the king was treated by them as an attempt to con- 
ceal a gross and an adulterous passion. 

XIV. In the beginning of the year 1529, the 
pope was seized with a violent disorder, from which 
he was not expected to recover. Wolsey, on hear- 
ing of this, immediately began to canvass for the 
papal chair, and the correspondence which he held 
for this purpose serves to illustrate the bias of his 
ambition, and to show the objects to which he 
would have directed his attention in the event of 
attaining the supreme dignity. In one of his let- 
ters he charges his agents to procure access to the 
pope ; and, though he were in the very agony of 
death, to propose two things to him : first, that he 
would command all the princes of Christendom to 
lay down their arms. " His holiness," says he, 
6( can do nothing more meritorious for the good of 
his soul than to close his life with so holy an act ; 
and, secondly, that he would promote the king's 
business as a thing essential to the clearing of his 
conscience towards God." But the pope recovered, 
and, offended by the eagerness with which the 
Cardinal aspired to succeed him, was little disposed 
to take his advice. Tressed on the one hand by 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 203 

the queen's relations, who urged him to avocate 
the cause to Rome, and on the other by Henry, 
who was equally solicitous that it should be brought 
to an immediate decision, he adopted a procrasti- 
nating policy ; and, by the address of Campeggio, 
the year was far advanced before the requisite ar- 
rangements for the trial were completed. 

XV. The sovereign of a powerful kingdom, ac- 
customed to absolute sway, and under no appre- 
hensions from any foreign power, freely submitting 
to be cited before a tribunal erected within his own 
dominions, for the purpose of determining a cause 
in which his own honour and happiness were so 
deeply involved, was a spectacle equally singular 
and interesting, and calculated to arrest the at- 
tention of all descriptions of men. The thirty- 
first day of May was fixed for opening the court ; 
and the hall of the Blackfriars convent in London, 
where the parliament in those days usually assem- 
bled, was prepared for the occasion. At the up- 
per end hung a canopy ; under which, on an ele- 
vated platform, the king sat in a chair of state. 
The queen was seated at some distance, a little 
lower. In front of the king, but three steps be- 
neath him, and so placed that the one appeared on 
his right hand, and the other on his left, Wolsey 
and Campeggio were placed ; and at their feet se- 
veral clerks and officers ; before whom, and within 
the bar, were the prelates of the realm. Without 
the bar, on one side, stood the advocates and proc- 



204 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

tors of the king ; and on the other those appointed 
for the queen. The sides of the hall were occu- 
pied with successive tiers of benches, which were 
crowded to a great height with all the most illus- 
trious and noble persons of the nation. 

XVI. Silence being proclaimed, the commission 
of the legates was read, and an officer, called the 
apparitor, cried aloud, " Henry, King of England, 
come into the court.'" The king answered, " Here 
I am." The queen was then also summoned, but 
she made no reply. Rising from her chair, she de- 
scended to the floor, and walked around the court. 
Not a breathing was heard. When she came op- 
posite to the king, she knelt down, and addressed 
him to the following effect : — " I humbly beseech 
your majesty to extend to me your wonted cle- 
mency. I am a helpless woman and a stranger, 
born out of your dominions, and destitute of friends 
and counsel. I cannot plead for myself, and I 
know not whom to employ. Those who are re- 
tained for me are only such as you have been 
pleased to appoint. They are your own subjects ; 
and who can believe that they shall be able to with- 
stand your will and pleasure ? Alas ! sir, in what 
have I offended, that, after twenty years spent in 
peaceable wedlock, and having born to you so many 
children, you should think of putting me away ? I 
was, I confess, the widow of your brother, if slie 
can be accounted a widow whom her husband ne\er 
knew; for I take Almighty God to witness, that I 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 205 

came to your bed an unblemished virgin. How I 
have behaved myself I am willing to appeal even 
to those who wish me the least good. Certainly, 
whatever their verdict may be, you have always 
found me a most faithful servant, I may rather say, 
than wife, having never to my knowledge opposed 
even in appearacce your will. I always loved, 
without regard to their merits, those whom you fa- 
voured. I so anxiously contributed to your hap- 
piness, that I fear I have offended God in studying 
your inclinations too much, and not by neglecting 
any duty. By my fidelity, if ever you thought it 
worthy of regard, — by our common issue, and by 
the memory of your father, which you sometimes 
held dear, — I implore you to defer the proceed- 
ings of this cause until I have consulted my friends 
in Spain. If then, in justice, it shall be thought 
meet to send me from you, a part of whom I have 
so long been, and the apprehension is more terrible 
than death, I will continue my long-observed obe- 
dience, and submit. — But when I reflect on the re- 
putation of our fathers, by whose endeavours our 
union was formed, I hope confidently of niv cause. 
Your father, for his admirable wisdom, was ae- 
counted a second Solomon. Nor can Spain, through- 
out the whole succession of the sovereigns of all 
her kingdoms, produce any one to parallel mine. 
What kind of counsellors must we think thOH 
princes had, that all should, as it were, conspire to 
hurl us into incestuous sin. No question was then 



206 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

made of the lawfulness of our marriage ; and yet 
those times afforded learned men, who, in holiness 
and love of truth, far surpassed the flatterers of these 
in which we now live. ,, — She then rose, and, making 
obeisance to the king, hastened out of the court. 
She had not, however, proceeded far, when the 
king commanded the apparitor to call her back. 
Without attending to the summons, she still went 
forward. A gentleman, on whose arm she leaned, 
observed, that she was called. " I hear it very 
well,"" she replied, " but on, on, go you on. Let 
them proceed against me as they please ; I am re- 
solved not to stay." Nor could she be afterwards 
persuaded to appear a second time. 

XVII. " In the queen's absence," said Hen- 
ry, addressing himself to the audience, " I will 
freely declare to you all, that she has been uni- 
formly as true, as obedient, and as dutiful a wife, 
as I could wish or desire. She has all the virtues 
that ought to be in a woman of her dignity, or in 
any other of inferior condition. Her birth is, in- 
deed, not more noble than her qualities." Wolsey, 
conceiving that some of Katherine's insinuations 
were directed towards him, entreated the king to 
declare, whether he had either been the first or the 
chief mover in the business, as suspicions to that 
effect were entertained. " My Lord Cardinal,'" 
answered Henry, " I can well excuse you : so far 
from being a mover, you have been rather against 
me. The first cause was the disturbance produced 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 207 

in my mind by the doubts which the French mini 
ster entertained of the legitimacy of my daughter. 
His doubts engendered such scruples in my bo- 
som that I became greatly perplexed. I began 
to think myself in danger of God's indignation., 
which appeared already manifest ; for all the sons 
that my wife brought to me were cut off imme- 
diately after they came into the world. Being 
thus tossed on the waves of doubtful thought, and 
despairing of having any other issue by the queen, 
it became my duty to consider the state of the 
kingdom, and the calamities of a disputed succes- 
sion. I, therefore, conceived it to be good for the 
ease of my conscience, and also for the security of 
the nation, to ascertain, in the event of my marri- 
age proving unlawful, whether I might take ano- 
ther wife. And it is this point which we are about 
to try by the learning and wisdom of you the pre- 
lates and pastors of the kingdom. To you I have 
committed the judgment, and to your decision 
I am willing to submit. My Lord of Lincoln, - ' 1 
said he, addressing the bishop of that see, " it was 
first to you in confession that I communicated my 
scruples ; and as you were yourself in doubt, you 
advised me to consult all these my lords ; upon 
which I moved you, my Lord of Canterbury, as 
metropolitan, to put the question to the bishops; 
and all your opinions granted under your respec- 
tive seals are here to be exhibited. 11 The kino 
having delivered this address the court adjourned 



208 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

XVIII. Katherine persisted in her resolution 
of never again entering the court. To the moni- 
tory letters citing her to attend, and threatening 
her with the consequences of contumacy, she re- 
plied by appealing to the pope, excepting to the 
place of trial, to the judges, and to her counsel, 
and desiring that the cause might be heard at 
Rome. She was declared contumacious, and the 
legates proceeded in the process. Notwithstand- 
ing her solemn assertions respecting the non-con- 
summation of her first marriage, probability and 
the testimonies of the witnesses were against her ; 
and the evidence was as distinct as the case ad- 
mitted, or could have been expected, after the 
lapse of such a period of time. Meanwhile she 
wrote to her nephew the emperor, and to his bro- 
ther the King of Hungary, earnestly entreating 
them to procure an avocation of the cause to Rome, 
and declaring that she would suffer any thing, 
even death itself, rather than submit to a divorce. 
In consequence of these representations, Charles 
and Ferdinand sent orders to their ambassadors, 
to allow the pope no rest until he consented to 
the avocation. The emperor threatened that he 
would regard a sentence against his aunt as a 
dishonour done to his family, and would lose 
his throne rather than endure it. At the same 
time, Cardinal Campeggio secretly informed his 
holiness of the proceedings in England, and like- 
wise urged the avocation. The reasons alleged 

3 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 209 

by the queen for appealing, were in themselves so 
just, that the pope was left without any plausible 
pretext for delaying to comply with the emperor's 
request. But for some time he was awed by the 
resolute character of Henry, and the vehement 
representations of Wolsey. The Cardinal warned 
him, that if the cause was avocated at the suit of 
Katherine^ relations, the king and kingdom of 
England were lost to the apostolical see ; and he 
besought him to leave it still in the hands of the 
legates, who would execute their commission just- 
ly. " For my self, 11 said he, " rather than be 
swayed by fear or affection against the dictates of 
my conscience, I will suffer to be torn in pieces 
joint by joint." Clement, however, informed the 
English agents that the lawyers of Rome were 
unanimously of opinion, that he could not, in 
common justice, refuse the avocation ; and added, 
with many sighs and tears, that the destruction of 
Christendom was inevitable. " No man," he ex- 
claimed, " perceives the consequences of this mea- 
sure more clearly than I do ; but I am between the 
hammer and the anvil, and on my head the whole 
weight must fall. I would do more for the king 
than I have promised, but it is impossible to deny 
the emperor justice. I am surrounded by his 
forces, and myself and all that I have arc at his 
disposal. 11 The agents, after this, urged liini no 
further, but only studied to impede the issuing of 
the bull for the avocation, while they wrote to 



210 CARDINAL "WOLSEY. 

England, recommending the process to be hurried 
to a conclusion. Campeggio, on his part, was no 
less dexterous in contriving expedients to prolong 
the trial. 

XIX. The frequent adjournments of the court, 
on frivolous pretences, excited suspicions in the 
breast of Henry ; and he began to think, that the 
despatches of Wolsey evinced a greater degree of 
anxiety for the interests of the church than for 
those of his sovereign. This idea led him to treat 
the Cardinal with less cordiality, — a change which 
the keen-sighted enmity of the courtiers did not 
fail to observe and to promote by every art. Wol- 
sey was not blind to the slippery verge on which 
he stood, nor unaffected by those altered looks 
which were regarded as the omens of his fall. One 
day returning in his barge from the trial at Black- 
friars to his residence in Westminster, the Bishop 
of Carlisle, who accompanied him, happened to 
complain of the excessive heat of the weather. 
" If you were so chafed, my lord, as I have been 
to-day, you would be warm indeed,' 1 said the Car- 
dinal, alluding to a conversation which he had im- 
mediately before held with Henry. As soon as he 
entered his house, he undressed, and went to bed 
He had not, however, lain long down, when Lord 
IWhford, the father of Ann Bullen, came to him 
from the king, with a command, that he and Cam- 
peggio should immediately repair to Katherine, and 
exhort her to retire into some religious house, ra- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. Wl 

ther than undergo the disgrace of a public divorce. 
" You and other lords of the council," exclaimed 
Wolsey, " have put fancies into the king's head, 
which trouble all the nation, and for which, in the 
end, you will receive but little recompense." Roch- 
ford, as if conscious of deserving the sternness of the 
reproaches which the Cardinal continued to vent 
against him as he dressed himself, knelt down at 
the bedside, and, weeping, made no reply. 

XX. The two legates went to the queen, whom 
they found sitting among her maids at needle- 
work, with a skein of thread hanging about her 
neck. She rose at their entrance, and requested 
to know their pleasure. Wolsey addressed her in 
Latin. " Speak to me in English," said she, " that 
my attendants may know what you say." " If it 
please you, madam," he resumed, " we come to 
know from yourself, how you are really disposed 
in the business between you and the king, and to 
offer our opinion and advice." " As for your good- 
will," answered Katherine, " I thank you, and I 
am willing to hear your advice. But the business 
upon which you come is of such importance, that 
it requires much deliberation, and the help of a 
mind superior to feminine weakness. You see my 
employment. It is thus that my time is spent 
among my women, who are not the wisest counsel- 
lors, and yet I have no other in England, for 
Spain, where my friends are, God knows, is far off. 
Still I am content to hear what vou have to say. 



212 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

and will give you an answer when I can conveni- 
ently.'" She then conducted them into an inner 
apartment, where, having attentively heard their 
message, she addressed herself to Wolsey with 
great warmth. She accused him as the author of 
her misfortunes, because she could not endure his 
excessive arrogance and voluptuous life, and chiefly 
because she was related to the emperor, v. ho had 
refused to feed his insatiable ambition with the 
papal dignity. Nor would she permit him to re- 
ply, but dismissed him with marked displeasure, 
while she courteously parted from Campeggio. 

XXI. The trial, as far as respected the exa- 
mination of evidence, being completed, the court 
was crowded with spectators, and a general expec- 
tation prevailed, that sentence would at last be 
given. The king himself, impatient for the deci- 
sion, was seated in a gallery contiguous to the hall. 
But, to the surprise of the whole audience, Cam- 
peggio adjourned the court, on the pretence that, 
as it sat as part of the Roman consistory, the le- 
gates were bound to follow the rules of that court, 
which was then in vacation. And he added, " I 
will not give judgment without the counsel and 
commandment of the pope, to whom the whole 
proceedings must be first communicated. The 
affair itself is too high for us to deliver a hasty de- 
cision, considering the dignity of the persons to 
whom it relates, the doubtful occasion of it, the 
nature of our commission, and the authority by 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 213 

which we act. It is therefore fitting, that we 
should consult our proper head and lord. I am 
not to please, for favour, fear, or reward, any man 
alive, be he king or subject ; and the queen will 
make no answer, but has appealed to the pope. I 
am an old man, feeble and sickly, looking every 
day for death ; what will it avail me to put my 
soul in danger for the favour of any prince in this 
world? I am here only to see justice administered 
according to my conscience. The defendant be- 
lieves we cannot be impartial judges, because we 
are the king's subjects ; therefore, to avoid all am- 
biguities and misrepresentations, I adjourn the 
court, according to the practice of the consistory of 
Rome, from which our jurisdiction is derived, and 
that we may not exceed the limits of our commis- 
sion." The Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk were 
present, and remonstrated with Campeggio for de- 
laying the sentence ; but he replied, that no deci- 
sion pronounced during the vacation could be 
legal. Suffolk broke out into a violent passion, 
and, vehemently striking his hand upon the table, 
swore by the mass, that he saw it was true what 
was commonly said, that " never cardinal did good 
in England." Wolsey, conceiving the insinuation 
to be directed against him, said, in a sedate em- 
phatic manner, — " Sir, of all men in this realm., 
you have the least cause to disparage cardinals-; 
for if poor I had not been, you would not now 
have had a head on your shoulders to talk so con- 



214 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

temptuously of us, who neither mean you harm, 
nor have given you cause to be offended. I would 
have you to know, my lord, that I and my brother 
wish the king as much happiness, and the nation 
as much honour, wealth, and peace, as you or any 
other subject whatsoever, and would as gladly 
gratify all his lawful desires. But, my lord, what 
would you do if you were one of the king^s com- 
missioners in a foreign country, intrusted with the 
investigation of a solemn and dubious affair; 
would you not consult with his majesty before you 
finished the business ? I doubt not but you would. 
Therefore, repress your malice. Consider we are 
commissioners, and for a time cannot proceed to 
judgment, without the knowledge of him from 
whom our authority is derived. Nor can we do 
more or less than our commission allows ; and he 
that will be offended with us on this account is 
not a wise man. Pacify yourself, my lord, and 
speak with discretion, like a man of honour, or 
hold your tongue. Speak not reproachfully of 
your friends. The friendship that I have shown 
you, and which before I never mentioned, you well 
know. 11 The king, in the meantime, comported 
himself with more moderation than might have 
been expected from his impetuous temper. He 
manifested no particular displeasure, but still the 
ruin of Wolscy was considered inevitable. Cam- 
peggio soon after took his leave, and, richly re- 
warded, departed for Home; and it was currently 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 215 

reported, that Wolsey also intended to quit the 
kingdom, — so fully convinced was the public mind 
that he no longer possessed the king's favour. 
At this crisis, Ann Bullen, whom a sense of shame 
had induced to withdraw from court during the 
trial, was recalled. Regarding Wolsey with fear 
and aversion, as the determined foe of all her pro- 
jects of love and ambition, she industriously foster- 
ed the suspicions which had grown up in the mind 
of Henry ; and it began to be rumoured, that the 
Cardinal had incurred the penalties of the statute 
of premunire. Although aware of what was to 
ensue, and evidently corroded by anxiety and sus- 
pense, a kind of haughty magnanimity would 
not allow him to abate, in any respect, his accus- 
tomed ostentation and pretensions. He opened the 
Michaelmas term at Westminster-hall with all his 
usual pomp and ceremony, and performed the 
duties, as if unconscious that it was for the last 
time. In the course of the evening, it is supposed 
that he received private information of his disgrace 
having been determined, for next day he remained 
at home ; but no messenger came from the king. 
On the following morning, however, the Dukes of 
Norfolk and Suffolk arrived, and required the 
great seal to be delivered to them, informing him, 
that it was the king's pleasure that he should re- 
tire to Ashur, an ecclesiastical seat which belonged 
to him as Bishop of Winchester. With this requi- 
sition he refused to comply, saying, that the seal 



210 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

had been given to him personally by the king to 
enjoy it, with the ministration of the chancellor- 
ship, for life, and, as he had letters-patent to 
that effect, it was necessary they should produce 
their commission before he could lawfully deliver 
it into their hands. A warm debate arose ; but 
the Cardinal was firm, and the two noblemen went 
away without having accomplished their purpose. 
Next day they returned with credentials that could 
not be disputed ; and, his power being ended, he 
prepared for the resignation of his wealth. In- 
ventories were made of his furniture; and in- 
credible quantities of massy plate, velvets, damasks, 
and the richest tissues, laid out on the tables of his 
different chambers and galleries, were held by his 
treasurer at the disposal of the king. 

XXII. With his train of gentlemen and yeomen 
he proceeded to his barge, which lay at the Privy- 
garden stairs, where a vast multitude was assem- 
bled silently waiting, in the expectation of seeing 
him conveyed to the Tower. One of his domestics, 
with much concern, mentioned what the crowd ex- 
pected. The Cardinal, gently reprimanding the 
servant for his credulity and officiousness, said, that 
he took a bad way to comfort his master in adver- 
sity. " I would have you," added he, sternly, 
" and all the authors of such false reports, to 
know that I never deserved to be Bent to the 
Tower." The barge was rowed to Putney, where 
he landed, and mounted his mule. The servant- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 217 

followed ; but they had not advanced far when a 
horseman was discovered riding down the hill to- 
wards them. It was a messenger from the king, 
sent to assure him of unaltered esteem and kind- 
ness ; and to say, that the severity which he suf- 
fered was caused more by political considerations 
than by motives of anger or resentment. " His 
majesty in this," said the messenger, u only fol- 
lows the advice of others ; and therefore your 
grace should not give way to despondency, but 
cherish comfortable hopes." In the surprise and 
gratitude of the moment, Wolsey alighted from 
his mule, and, kneeling down on the spot, lifted 
up his hands to heaven, and returned thanks for 
this unexpected consolation. He rewarded the 
bearer of the message with a chain of gold and 
a precious relic from about his neck ; and as a 
proof to the king of the pleasure which this as- 
surance had afforded, he sent him a jester from 
among his train, with those buffooneries Henry 
had often been diverted. It might be inferred 
from this incident, that the Cardinal's disgrace was 
only a stratagem to intimidate the pope ; but his 
enemies turned it to their own advantage, and he 
was left deserted at Ashur. 

XXIII. Ruin is doubtless the same to men of 
all conditions ; but persons in elevated stations, 
as they fall from a greater height than men of 
ordinary rank, perhaps suffer under a more over- 
whelming sense of calamity. Disgrace also i- 



218 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

more acutely felt as it is more generally known, 
and the interest of a whole people adds an ideal 
weight to the misfortunes of fallen greatness. 
Wolsey now stood forth to view confessedly a 
ruined main. Sudden adversity had blasted all 
his blushing honours ; and, as a sure prognostic of 
approaching decay, the ephemeral swarms which 
had lived in his shade disappeared, and left him in 
solitude. Of all afflictions which assail the human 
heart, ingratitude has ever given the severest blow ; 
and men who have lost the possession of extensive 
power are peculiarly exposed to the evil. The official 
dependants of the Cardinal manifested the common 
baseness of political adherents ; and none but his 
immediate domestics, who partook in the over- 
throw of his fortunes, remained to console their 
fallen master. Bodily suffering would have, been 
relief to his proud mind ; but to be left alone to 
brood over his disgrace ; to feel the coldness of 
deliberate neglect ; to be conscious of the insolent 
triumph of his enemies ; and, with so liberal a 
spirit, to be deprived of the means of rewarding 
the faithful attachment of his servants, was a pu- 
nishment, as he observed himself, far worse than 
death. The agitations of suspense gradually sub- 
sided into despondency, and he was seized with 
that sickness of spirit which is more fatal to the 
powers of life than the sharpest sorrow. Had he 
been sent to the scaflold, he would in all probabi- 
lity have met death with firmness ; but the course 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 219 

which the king pursued, though dictated no doubt 
by some remains of tenderness, was that of all 
others against which he was least able to bear him- 
self with fortitude. 



BOOK VII. 



Henry VIII. had now reigned upwards of twenty 
years with great prosperity and renown. Had he 
died before the close of the Cardinal's administra- 
tion, he would have been commemorated as one of 
the best, as he was unquestionably one of the 
ablest and greatest monarch s that ever wore the 
crown of Fngland. Much of his celebrity would 
obviously have been due to Wolsey ; but if princes 
are individually blamed for the errors and failures 
of their ministers, humanity claims for them the 
honour of their wisdom and success. As they arc 
responsible for the measures of the men whom 
they employ, it is but just that they should be al- 
lowed the merit of discernment when they pro- 
mote those who maintain the dignity and advance 
the power of their states. In this respect, Henry 
is entitled to great praise ; for, except bv the mis_ 
sion to Maximilian, in the preceding reign, Wol- 
sey was unknown as a public character, and had 
not, by any scries of actions or particular exploit. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 221 

excited a disposition to believe him qualified for 
the high offices which he so suddenly obtained. 
Whatever the motives were which induced the 
king to confer upon him the chief exercise of the 
royal prerogatives, the sagacity by which he per- 
ceived his fitness would have been admired in the 
profoundest politician. By presenting the Cardi- 
nal as the main spring of the government, he 
screened himself from the clamour against unpo- 
pular undertakings ; and, in interposing occasion- 
ally to please the people, he acquired more distin- 
guished applause; while, at the same time, the 
great talents of Wolsey justified the confidence 
which he continued to bestow. But from the dis- 
missal of the Cardinal, his history exhibits a new 
character. Unrestrained by deference to the opi- 
nion of any other, and no longer fully confiding in the 
abilities of counsellors, whom he was habituated to 
regard as inferior men, his arbitrary spirit assum- 
ed the mastery of the government ; and his natural 
frankness, unqualified for the practice of that re- 
serve and procrastination which is perhaps essen- 
tial to the management of public affairs, betrayed 
him into violent courses, which the ready agency 
of the priesthood and the complacency of the par- 
liament shamefully facilitated. But such is the 
system of Providence. The base propensities of 
individuals yield beneficial results to the species, 
and particular evils always engender general good. 
To the caprice of Henry VIII., and the syco- 



2%2 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 

phancy of his counsellors, England owes the re- 
formation of religion, and the diminution of ec- 
clesiastical tyranny. 

II. The Cardinal, for more than seven years, 
had contrived to manage the government without 
parliamentary advice. The revenue and ordinary 
resources were adequate to the expenditure ; and 
therefore it was unnecessary to trouble the peers 
and representatives ; for pecuniary necessities con- 
stitute the chief motives which induce ministers to 
convene the collective wisdom of the nation. After 
the dismissal of Wolsey parliament was assembled, 
both on account of the state of the exchequer, and 
the vengeance which the king had vowed against 
the pope for revoking the process to Rome. Ex- 
cept in the appointment of Sir Thomas More to 
the chancery, no change had taken place in the 
administration ; yet the counsellors had the effron- 
tery to throw upon the Cardinal all the blame of 
the unpopular proceedings, in which they had 
themselves been previously concerned. It is the 
frequent recurrence of such examples of public 
dereliction that sickens to disgust, and sours into 
misanthropy, the feelings of historians in relating 
the cabals and conspiracies of courts. But the 
ministers of Henry VIII. were not influenced by 
those considerations which induced Wolsey to over- 
look present obstacles in contemplating the conse- 
quences of his undertakings. They felt not the 
desire of that renown which can only be attained 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. %23 

by accomplishing works of utility. They wanted 
that prophetic anticipation of the effects of exist- 
ing circumstances, which alone enables statesmen 
to dignify and even to hallow those acts of tem- 
porary injustice which seem so often mysteriously 
imposed upon their transactions. They were fas- 
tened close down to sordid and selfish aims ; and 
their views and faculties were limited to momen- 
tary expedients, which disturbed, without altering, 
the great current of human affairs. They procur- 
ed from parliament acts which abridged the prero- 
gatives of the clergy, in order to manifest to the 
court of Rome the resolution of the king to main- 
tain his royal supremacy. The utility of these 
measures obviates the objection to the morality of 
the motive ; but other laws were obtained that 
have no such apology. The king had contracted 
debts, and they absolved him from the payment ; 
and, as if the letting loose of delinquents on so- 
ciety could have been any compensation to his 
creditors, or any indemnity to mankind, for the 
public violation of common honesty, a general par- 
don for all offences, except the crimes of murder 
and treason, was granted. Articles of impeach- 
ment were also drawn up against the Cardinal, 
characteristic of the folly and wickedness of the 
new administration. He was charged with supe- 
riority of talents, and surpassing assiduity in bust. 
ness ; and with being eloquent in discourse, sar- 
castic to the presumptuous, liberal, loftv-minded, 



224 CARDINAL WGLSEY. 

subject to the common frailties of man, and disa- 
greeable when afflicted with disease. The main 
strength of his enemies lay in the House of Lords, 
among the nobility, the prelates, and the abbots ; 
and the bill of impeachment in consequence passed 
that branch of the legislature. But in the House 
of Commons, Thomas Cromwell, who had been 
secretary to the Cardinal, so manfully exposed the 
absurdity of the charges, and so powerfully vindi- 
cated the integrity of his old master, that the Com- 
mons threw out the bill as unworthy of investiga- 
tion. This circumstance, considering the times, 
and the general subserviency of the House of Com- 
mons to the crown, was the most emphatic eulogium 
that could be pronounced on the long and various 
administration of Wolsey. 

III. The impeachment having failed, the Car- 
dinal was immediately indicted on the sixteenth 
statute of Richard III., for having exercised his 
legatine commission without the king's authority 
One of the judges was sent to Ashur to receive his 
answer to this shameless accusation. The reply 
of Wolsey was proud and melancholy. " I am, v 
said he, " now sixty years old, and the best of 
my days have been spent in his majesty's service, 
in which my whole endeavour was to please him : 
and is this that heinous offence for which I am de- 
prived in old age of my all, and driven as it were 
to beg my bread ? I expected some higher charge ; 
not that I am guilty, hut because his majesty know ^ 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 225 

how ill it becomes the magnanimity of a king to 
condemn, without a hearing, a servant who was 
greatest in his favour ; and to inflict for a slight 
fault a punishment more cruel than death. What 
man is he that would not die rather than witness 
those, whose faithful service he has long experienc- 
ed, starving around him ? But, since so little can 
be alleged against me, I hope that this machination 
of combined envy, will be as easily broken as my 
impeachment was thrown out of the parliament. 
It is well known to the king, that I would not 
have presumed to exercise my legatine commission 
without his royal assent. All my property, as you 
know, is under sequestration ; I cannot, therefore, 
at present produce his letters, neither indeed if I 
could would I ; for why should I contend with the 
king ? Go, therefore, and tell him, that I acknow- 
ledge all that I have, (but of what do I speak ? for 
I have nothing left,) or whatsoever I had, to be the 
gifts of his royal bounty ; and it is but just that 
he should revoke his favours if he think me un- 
worthy of them. I remit my cause to him, to be 
at his pleasure either condemned or pardoned. If 
you will have me acknowledge myself guilty, be it 
so ; but the king knows my innocence, and neither 
my own confession, nor the detractions of my ene- 
mies, can deceive him. 11 The judge then request- 
ed him to resign York place, the archiepiscopal re- 
sidence in Westminster. The Cardinal, not con- 
sidering it as his property, was surprised at the 

P 



226 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

request, and said to the judge, " Sir, I know that 
the king possesses a royal spirit, not requiring 
more by law than what is reasonable ; therefore I 
advise you, and all his council, to put no more 
into his head than may stand with his conscience. 
The council of a king ought to respect equity more 
than law ; for it is more honourable to do what is 
just than what is lawful. The king, for his own 
dignity, should mitigate the rigour of the laws ; 
and it is for this purpose that he has appointed a 
chancellor, with power to appease and restrain the 
severity with which, in some cases, they might 
operate. And now, sir, can I give away that 
which belongs as much to those who shall succeed 
me as to myself ? I pray you, show me whether 
it be consistent with law or equity ?" The judge 
was perplexed by these observations, and knew not 
well what answer to give. " In truth," said he, 
" there is little equity in the matter ; but the 
king's great power is sufficient to recompense the 
see of York with double the value of the place." 
" That I know," replied the Cardinal, " but there 
is no such condition in the proposal. You require 
of me a full and entire surrender of the rights of 
others with which I have been intrusted. If every 
bishop were to comply with such a request, what 
would become of the patrimony of the church ? 
But I must submit to the king's power. I charge 
you, however, to exonerate me from the guilt of 
this act ; and to tell his majesty to remember that 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 227 

there is both a heaven and a hell." With this an- 
swer the judge returned to London. 

IV. The declaration was received as the confes- 
sion of his offence, and the sentence of the law was 
pronounced. All his possessions and moveables 
were forfeited to the crown ; but he was not, as the 
law commands, committed to prison. The fate of 
his colleges gave him most pain. He had indulged 
a fond expectation that they would have been his 
monuments with posterity, as a patron of know- 
ledge and a benefactor to his country ; but they too 
were confiscated. He wrote to the king humbly, 
as on his knees, and with weeping eyes, to spare 
the college at Oxford. No answer was returned. 

V. Cromwell, who, in the House of Commons, 
had so ably defended him, acted with such open 
and manly intrepidity in the cause of his deserted 
master, that he won the esteem of all parties. 
Being on a visit of consolation to him at Ashur, he 
one day took occasion to mention that no provi- 
sion had been made for several of the servants who 
had proved themselves very faithful, and had never 
forsaken him. " Alas !" replied the Cardinal, 
" you know that I have nothing to give them, nor 
to reward you. v> Cromwell then proposed that the" 
Cardinal's chaplains, who had been preferred to 
rich benefices by his influence, should, with him- 
self, contribute a little money for the support of 
the domestics ; and it was agreed that, as the re- 
turn of the king's favour was uncertain, it was ne- 



228 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

ccssary to reduce their number. The servants 
were therefore summoned into the hall, at the 
upper end of which stood Wolsey in his pontifical 
robes, attended by the chaplains and officers of his 
household, with whom he continued in conversa- 
tion till the whole were assembled. Turning to ad- 
dress them, he paused for a moment. The sight 
of so many faithful, though humble friends, power- 
fully touched his feelings, and for some time he 
was unable to speak. The tears started into his 
eyes, and the servants, perceiving his emotion, 
gave way to their own sorrows. When he had re- 
covered from his agitation, and silence was restored, 
he spoke to them in the following manner: — 
" Most faithful gentlemen and true-hearted yeo- 
men, I lament that in my prosperity I did not so 
much for you as I might have done, nor what was 
then in my power. I considered, indeed, that if I 
promoted you to the exclusion of the king's ser- 
vants, I should have been exposed to their malice 
and to the slander of the world. But now mv 
power is gone. It has pleased the king to take 
away all that I had, and I have nothing left but 
my robe. My punishment, however, far exceeds 
my offence ; and I trust to be soon restored to his 
majesty's favour, when I shall remember the trea- 
sure I possessed in you, the value of which I knew 
not before. Whatever may then be the surplus of 
my income, it shall be divided among you ; for I 
will never consider the riches of this world as given 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 229 

for any other end than for the maintenance of that 
condition to which Providence calls me. Should 
the king not soon replace me in his confidence, I 
will recommend you to himself or to some noble- 
man ; and I trust that the king or any nobleman 
will yet respect my recommendation." He con- 
cluded by advising them to repair to their fami- 
lies ; and Cromwell and the chaplains having raised 
a sum of money for their relief, it was immediately 
distributed, and many of them departed to their 
respective homes. 

VI. The apprehension of retaliation often en- 
genders in the minds of aggressors sentiments 
which resemble the workings of revenge ; and base 
spirits, when they have happened to injure, often 
deliberately continue to persecute. The enemies 
of the Cardinal combined to prevent the king from 
ever seeing him again, and continued to mortify 
his proud heart, in the hope that innocence, pro- 
voked by injustice, would betray him into some im- 
prudent expression of indignation. Henry himself 
has indeed been suspected of sanctioning their 
cruelty from a vicious principle of policy, in the 
expectation that, as Wolsey disregarded popular 
clamour, he might, for the restoration of his gran- 
deur, not scruple to sustain even the obloquy of 
the Roman consistory, by pronouncing the sen- 
tence of divorce. But he ought to have known 
his lofty character better ; and that the love of 
fame, which renders public men incorruptible, 



230 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

though nearly allied to the love of power and 
splendour, never admits rank into comparison with 
reputation. The treatment which the 'Cardinal re- 
ceived wounded without irritating. The eager- 
ness with which his former associates endeavoured 
to rise on his ruins, — the neglect of those who had 
shared his bounty,— - the abortive assurances that 
he had received from the king, — and the conviction 
that, without being restored to favour, he never 
could be able to contradict the wilful misrepresenta- 
tion which was daily made of his purest intentions, 
but must transmit a blemished and defaced charac- 
ter to posterity, — corroded his feelings to such a de- 
gree, that his life was despaired of. Henry, being 
informed of his indisposition, inquired of one of the 
court physicians, who had professionally visited 
Ashur, what was the matter with the Cardinal, 
and learning that it arose from dejection, struck 
the table violently with his hand, exclaiming, " I 
would rather lose twenty thousand pounds, than 
that he should die ; make you haste, therefore, 
with as many as are of your profession about the 
court, and endeavour to recover him." He then 
took from his finger a ring, charged with a ruby, 
on which his own head was engraved, and sent a 
gentleman with it and many kindly assurances to 
the Cardinal ; and he ordered Ann Bullcn, who 
happened to be present, to send also some token 
of her regard ; and she submissively obeyed, giv- 
ing the doctor a golden tablet from her side, which 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. ' 231 

she requested him to deliver from her. Soon af- 
ter, Wolsey was regularly pardoned, and replaced 
in the see of York, with a pension of a thousand 
marks per annum from the bishopric of Winches- 
ter ; and Henry, unknown to the privy council, 
restored to him plate and effects to the value of 
more than six thousand pounds. These unex- 
pected testimonies of affection essentially contri- 
buted to his recovery ; and having been allowed 
permission, when he resigned the palace at Hamp- 
ton, to reside in Richmond Castle, he ventured to 
solicit leave to remove from Ashur to the more 
cheerful air and scenery of that mansion ; which 
was readily granted. But his enemies, fearing that, 
if he was permitted to reside long so near the court, 
the king might be induced to visit or recall him, 
recommended that, as he was not now detained by 
the duties of the chancery, he should be sent to 
the government of his diocese ; and he was accord- 
ingly banished to York. 

VII. Some time previous to his departure, the 
domestics observed an interesting change in his de- 
meanour. Like many other great men in adver- 
sity, his mind took a superstitious turn, and seemed 
to discover, in accidents certainly trivial, an omin- 
ous and fatal meaning. He grew pensive, wore a 
shirt of haircloth, and held frequent conferences 
with a venerable old man belonging to the brother- 
hood of the Charter-house at Richmond. 

VIII. He commenced his journey toward. York 



232 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



about the end of Lent. His train consisted of a 
hundred and sixty horse, and seventy-two waggons, 
loaded with the relics of his furniture. How great 
must have been that grandeur which, by compari- 
son, made such wealth appear poverty ! Having 
stopped at Peterborough to celebrate the festival 
of Easter, on Palm-sunday he walked in the pro- 
cession of the monks to the cathedral ; and on the 
following Thursday kept Maunday, according to 
the practice of the church, washing the feet of the 
poor, and bestowing alms and blessings. From 
Peterborough he proceeded slowly, exercising his 
pastoral functions by the way, and halted at Stoby, 
where he resided till Michaelmas, preaching in the 
churches of the adjacent parishes, interposing to 
reconcile the variance of neighbours, relieving the 
necessitous, and performing many other exemplary 
acts of piety and benevolence. He then went for- 
ward to Caywood Castle, one of the residences of 
the Archbishop of York, distant from the city 
about twelve miles. A great conflux of people, 
drawn together by curiosity, waited to see him ar- 
rive, among whom were the clergy of the diocese, 
who welcomed him with the reverence due to his 
pontifical dignity. The castle, having been long 
untenanted, required extensive repairs, which the 
Cardinal immediately commenced ; for nature and 
habit made him decisive and prompt in all circum- 
stances. The short period of his residence in this 
ancient mansion was, perhaps, the happiest of his 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 233 

life. He appeared delighted with the composure 
of rural affairs ; and, by the equity of his demean- 
our, and a mild condescension, which belied the re- 
ports of his haughtiness, he won the hearts of his 
diocesans. He professed himself a convert from am- 
bition ; and, having suffered the perils and terrors 
of shipwreck, he was thankful that, at length, he 
had cast anchor in a calm and pleasant haven, with 
the expectation of safety and rest. 

IX. As he had never been installed in the archie- 
piscopal see, he gave orders to prepare the cathe- 
dral for the ceremony, and a day was appointed 
for the celebration. On this occasion the arrange- 
ments were unusually simple, and indicated the al- 
tered frame of his mind. As the day approached, 
incredible quantities of provisions were sent to him 
by the neighbouring gentry and clergy, in order 
that he might maintain the customary hospitalities 
in a style suitable to his character ; and, in the 
meantime, he was flattered by several friendly mes- 
sages from the king. The pleasure which the lat- 
ter afforded was so obvious and lively, that it was 
difficult to determine whether it arose from a re- 
kindled hope of restoration, or was only the exult- 
ing joy of finding his integrity vindicated. But 
the triumph or the illusion was of short duration, 
and only served to inflame the sense of disappoint- 
ment, and to enhance the shock of a second fall. 

X. The Monday after All-souls day was fixed 
lor the installation ; but, on the preceding Friday, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



as he was sitting at dinner, the Earl of Northum- 
berland, who, while Lord Percy, had been edu- 
cated in his house, and whose intended marriage 
with Ann Bullen the Cardinal had been the means 
of frustrating, accompanied by a privy counsellor 
and a large retinue, arrived at the castle. He was 
received with a paternal and a cheerful welcome, 
and conducted by Wolsey into his own apart- 
ments ; where they had not, however, exchanged 
many words, when the earl became agitated, and, 
in a low and troubled voice, declared him arrested 
for high treason. Astonished by a charge so un- 
expected, Wolsey, for some time, was unable to 
speak ; but, recovering his spirits, he requested 
Northumberland to show the warrant, protesting 
that otherwise he would not surrender himself ; for, 
as a member of the college of cardinals, he was ex- 
empted from the jurisdiction of all secular princes. 
At this moment the privy counsellor entered the 
room. Wolsey, on seeing him, observed that, as a 
counsellor of the king, he was sufficiently commis- 
sioned to take him into custody, and immediately 
intimated that he was their prisoner. " I fear 
not,'" added he, " the cruelty of my enemies, nor 
a scrutiny of my allegiance ; and I will take Hea- 
ven to witness, that neither in word nor deed have 
I injured the king, and I will maintain my inno- 
cence face to face with any man alive.' 1 

XI. When it was known in the neighbourhood 
that he was to be conveyed to London, a great 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 235 

crowd assembled round the castle ; and as he came 
out on his mule, guarded, the people began to ex- 
claim, " God save your grace, and foul evil over- 
take them that have taken you from us. 1 ' With 
these and other testimonies of popular affection, 
he was followed to a considerable distance. Nor- 
thumberland conducted him to Sheffield-park, and 
delivered him to the custody of the Earl of Shrews- 
bury, with whom he resided about a fortnight, un- 
til the king^s further pleasure was known. Shrews- 
bury entertained him with the respect that became 
his own honour, and assured him, that though the 
king could not satisfy the council without sending 
him to trial, still he believed him guiltless, and that 
his enemies dreaded his restoration to favour more 
than he ought to do their malice. But the Cardi- 
nal could no longer be cheered. He considered 
his destruction as irrevocably fixed, and resigned 
himself to the comfortless thoughts which that 
gloomy notion inspired. His constitution, impair- 
ed by age and the vicissitudes of hope and fear, 
suddenly gave way. One day, at dinner, he com- 
plained of a coldness in his stomach, and was soon 
after seized with a violent flux, which greatly drain- 
ed his strength. In this situation he was found by 
Sir William Kingston, constable of the Tower, 
who, with twenty yeomen of the guards that had 
formerly been in his own service, came to convey 
him to London. In the whole of his treatment, 
from the moment of his arrest, a great degree of 



236 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

respect and consideration was shown to him, and 
it appears to have been at the special command of 
Henry. Sir William, on being taken to his pre- 
sence, knelt down, and assured him, in the king's 
name, of his majesty's unbroken friendship ; add- 
ing, that it was not necessary for him to make 
more haste in the journey than suited his health 
and convenience. The Cardinal, however, thought 
that delay might be regarded as evidence of 
conscious guilt, and, declining the indulgence, 
anxiously proceeded forward. Although he tra- 
velled slowly, his illness was increased by fatigue, 
and he grew weak and feverish. On the evening 
of the third day after leaving Sheffield-park, he 
approached Leicester. The appearance of nature 
accorded with the condition of the prisoner. The 
end of the year was drawing nigh, and the Cardi- 
nal beheld for the last time the falling leaf and the 
setting sun. 

XII. When the cavalcade reached the monas- 
tery, the day was shut in ; and the abbot and the 
friars, apprized of his coming, waited with torches 
at the gate to receive him. But the honours of 
this world had ceased to afford him pleasure, and 
as he passed towards the bottom of the stairs, he 
said to the brotherhood, " I am come to lay my 
bones among you. 11 Being supported into a cham- 
ber, lie immediately went to bed, and languished, 
with increasing signs of dissolution, all the next 
day. The following morning. Cavendish, his 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 237 

usher, and afterwards historian, as he was watch- 
ing near him, thought that he perceived the symp- 
toms of death. The Cardinal, noticing him, in- 
quired the hour, and was told eight o'clock ; 
" that cannot be, 1 ' he replied, " for at eight 
o'clock you shall lose your master. My time is 
at hand, and I must depart this world." His con- 
fessor, who was standing near, requested Caven- 
dish to inquire if he would be confessed. " What 
have you to do with that P" answered he angrily ; 
but was pacified by the interference of the confess- 
or. Continuing to grow weaker and weaker, he 
frequently fainted during the course of the day. 
About four o'clock of the following morning he 
asked some refreshment ; which having received, 
and made confession, Sir William Kingston enter- 
ed his room, and inquired how he felt himself. 
" Sir," said Wolscy, " I tarry but the pleasure 
of God, to render up my poor soul into his hands ;" 
and, after a few other words between them, he re- 
sumed, " I have now been eight days together 
troubled with a continual flux and fever, a species 
of disease which, if it do not remit its violence 
within that period, never fails to terminate in death. 
I pray you commend me humbly to the king ; and 
beseech him, in my behalf, to call to his princely 
remembrance all matters that have passed between 
him and me, particularly in what respects the busi- 
ness of the queen, and then he must know wheth- 
er I have given him any offence. He is a prince 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

of a most royal nature ; but rather than want any 
part of his pleasure, he will endanger the half of 
his kingdom. Often have I knelt before him for 
three hours together, endeavouring to persuade 
him from his will and appetite, and could not pre- 
vail. Had I served God as diligently as I have 
done the king he would not have given me over 
in my grey hairs." He then continued for a short 
time to give Sir William some advice, in case he 
should ever be called to the privy council, and, 
adding a few general observations on the revolu- 
tionary temper of the times, concluded by saying, 
" Farewell, I wish all good things to have success. 
My time draws fast on. I may not tarry with you. 
Forget not what I have said ; and when I am 
gone, call it often to mind. 1 ' Towards the conclu- 
sion he began to falter, and linger in the articula- 
tion of his words. At the end, his eyes became 
motionless and his sight failed. The abbot was 
summoned to administer the extreme unction, and 
the yeomen of the guard were called in to see him 
die. As the clock struck eight he expired. 

XIII. The body, with the face uncovered, be- 
ing laid out in pontifical robes, the magistrates and 
inhabitants of Leicester were admitted to see it, in 
order that they might certify the death. In the 
evening it was removed into the church ; but the 
funeral service was protracted by unusual dirges 
and orisons, and it was past midnight before the 
interment took place. Such v>as the end of this 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 239 

proud and famous cardinal. The king, when in- 
formed of his death, was touched with sincere sor- 
row ; and, as if it could in any way atone for his 
own conduct, he seemed anxious to reward all those 
who had shown any kindness to his old favourite. 
On Cromwell he bestowed no inconsiderable por- 
tion of the power which his master had enjoyed ; 
and Cavendish, whose prudence and fidelity had 
remained unshaken by the ruin which he had wit- 
nessed and shared, was promoted to wealth and si- 
tuations which enabled him to become the founder 
of the princely dukedom of Devonshire. Henry, 
indeed, never ceased to regret the Cardinal ; and 
often, in the perplexities which afterwards troubled 
his reign, lamented the loss of Wolsey, always pro- 
nouncing his name with an epithet of respect. 

XIV. If it be true, that no man by less effort 
ever attained so much dignity as Cardinal Wolsey, 
few have been thrown down from so great a height 
under the imputation of smaller crimes. He was 
undoubtedly a character of the most splendid class. 
Haughty, ambitious, masterly, and magnificent, 
he felt himself formed for superiority ; and his 
conduct, if not always judicious, was uniformly 
great. His exterior was dignified, his demeanour 
courtly, his discernment rapid, his eloquence com- 
manding, and his comprehension vast and pros- 
pective. The number, variety, and magnitude of 
his public trusts, in all of which he was eminently 
distinguished, are proofs of the elastic powers of 



240 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

his mind, and the versatility of his talents for busi- 
ness. His avidity to amass wealth was contrast- 
ed with an expenditure so generous, that it lost the 
name of avarice, and deserved to be dignified with 
that of ambition. His ostentation was so richly 
blended with munificence and hospitality, that it 
ought to be ascribed rather to the love of distinc- 
tion than to vanity ; and his pride was so nearly 
allied to the sense of honour and justice, that it 
seemed to be essential to his accomplishments as a 
statesman. All his undertakings showed the com- 
bining and foreseeing faculties of his genius. His 
plan for the reformation of the clergy was singu- 
larly liberal; and to circumstances which arose 
during his administration, many of the most im- 
portant changes in the moral state of modern Eu- 
rope may be clearly traced. The league of Lon- 
don may be called the great charter of Christen- 
dom, for it established the independence of the 
different nations, and restricted the domination of 
the pope to affairs purely ecclesiastical. It is by 
these two great systematic measures, the one do- 
mestic, and the other foreign, that the merits of 
his administration should be estimated, for the 
whole tenor of his internal policy seems to have 
borne particularly against the wealth and preroga- 
tives of the priesthood, while the object of his ne- 
gotiations with foreign states was no less calculated 
to define alike the duties of sovereigns and sub- 
jects, lie seems to have regarded the Eu r o p e a n 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 241 

nations as so many distinct members of the same 
body, and that the authority of the pope was not 
exactly the kind which should predominate. It 
must be considered as no slight proof of his en- 
larged and enlightened views, that in the recent re- 
edification of the Christian community of nations, 
the principles have been revived upon which he 
framed the league of London ; for the treaty of 
Paris of 1815 closely resembles, in its elemental 
basis, the ground and spirit of that ancient and 
noble compact. It is this anticipation of the fu- 
ture, or, more properly speaking, this perception 
of things applicable to the universal nature of in- 
terests, at once social and separate, that makes all 
the difference between a minister and a statesman. 
The two great measures of Cardinal Wolsey, on 
account both of their immediate efFect, and of the 
consequences which continue to flow from them, 
can never be classed with the temporary expedi- 
ents which constitute the ordinary business of po- 
liticians, but are entitled to be ranked with those 
codes of law which everlastingly affect the habits 
and characters of mankind. To allege that he was 
aware of their interminable importance, would be 
as improper as to withhold from him the admira- 
tion due to great natural ability, or to deny that 
he employed the gifts of fortune with glory to him- 
self and advantage to his country. The invidi- 
ous, who delight to contemplate the little blemishes 
of the most illustrious characters, will see in the 

9 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 

errors of Cardinal Wolsey much to condemn ; but 
minds of more generous feeling will consider his 
vices as obsolete topics ; for, in the opinion of 
such, the merits and the virtues of the great are 
all that should attract the attention of posterity. 
And they will not refuse to allow that, whether 
estimated by his talents, accomplishments, fortune, 
or designs, this famous Cardinal was one of those 
extraordinary personages who only arise in times 
of change and commotion, surprising the world by 
the splendour of their actions ; and who, having 
agitated and altered the frame of society by their 
influence, are commemorated as the epochal charac- 
ters of history. 






NOTES. 



NOTES TO BOOK FIRST, 



1. To profess the sentiments whieh it had anciently inspired 
was not indeed ridiculous. Sect. v. page 4. 

Cervantes was not born till the year 15t7, nor Don Quix- 
ote published in Spain till 1005. 

2. Xothing less was expected from it than a know- 
ledge if future events, and the power of conferring inexhaus' 
tilde wealth and immortality. Sect. vi. page 5. 

Astrology has long, by the absurd pretensions of its pro- 
fessors, been so effectually consigned to oblivious contempt, 
that the books which treat of its principles are rarely to be 
found even in libraries of curious literature, and are never 
inquired for without provoking a sort of compassionate ridi- 
cule not easily withstood. And yet the study itself, as pro- 
fessing to discover, by celestial phenomena, future mutations 
in terrestrial bodies,* ought not to be despised. The theory 
of the tides is altogether an astrological doctrine, and long 
before the days of Sir Isaac Xewton was as well understood 
as it is at this moment. The correspondence which the 
ancient physicians alleged to exist between the positions of 
the moon and the stages of various diseases, has certainly 
received a degree of confirmation, auspicious to a modified 
revival of the doctrine of celestial influences, t It is not a 
just philosophy which rejects as vain what appears to be 



* Sir Christopher Ilcytlon's Defence of Astrology, p. 2. eel. L0O3. 
f Dr Mead's Treatise concerning the Influence of the Sun and 
3Ioon upon Human Bodies, &C 



246 



NOTES. 



improbable. Though many things of which the astrologers 
speak be apparently fanciful, they are not the less worthy 
of being exaimned. They have asserted, that the fits of a 
particular kind of madness are governed by the moon; that 
her rays quicken the putrefaction of animals ;" that persons 
are rendered dull and drowsy who sleep abroad in the moon- 
light ; that vegetables sown in the spring of the moon dif- 
fer in flavour from the same kind sown in her wane ; that 
vines pruned during her conjunction with the sun shoot 
forth a less rank foliage afterwards ; and that timber felled 
at the same time endures longest uncorrupted.t They have 
also alleged, that oysters, crabs, and all testacious fish, grow 
fat and full with the waxing of the moon, and dwindle 
with her waning ; that she has an influence on the procre- 
ation of mares and horses ; and that children born at the 
time of new moon are always short-lived. Any man pos- 
sessing patience and inclination might so easily ascertain 
the fact of these things, that it is surprising they should be 
still pronounced incredible, and denied rather than contra- 
dicted : 

" Yet safe the world and free from change doth last ; 

No years increase it, and no years can waste. 

Its course it urges on, and keeps its frame, 

And still will be, because 'twas still the same. 

It stands secure from Time's devouring rage, 

For 'tis a God, nor can it change with age." 

And therefore, say the astrologers, a correspondence and 
coincidence must exist throughout the universal pheno- 
mena ; as in the machinery of a clock, in which the state of 
one part indicates what has passed, or is to happen in 
another. 

The principles of astrology, like those of every other 



Hcydon. p. L2fi f Ibid. p. ltW. 



NOTES. 247 

science, must have been founded on some species of experi- 
ence. The first occurrences that probably attracted obser- 
vation, would be those that naturally had some apparent 
concordance with the great luminaries and planets, such as 
the seasons of the year, &c The tides, varying with the 
phases of the moon, would early obtain attention : . their re- 
gular increase, corresponding to her opposition and conjunc- 
tion, would lead to the consideration of the solar influence. 
Thence, perhaps, it was observed, that when certain planets 
were in particular constellations, and the sun in certain 
signs of the zodiac, the tides were otherwise affected. Hence 
the qualities of the planetary influence came to be studied. 

A transition from the tides to the variations of the atmos- 
phere, if they did not at first attract notice, was very natu- 
ral ; and as valetudinarians are particularly affected by the 
weather, the progress towards that branch of astrology which 
relates to diseases would be the consequence. 

If the diseases of man be regulated by the stars, why not 
his passions also ? And as his passions govern his actions, 
making one class of motives more acceptable than another, 
why not by the means of his passions regulate his fortune ? 
Fortune is but another name for situation, and men are evi- 
dently allured into their various circumstances or situations 
by their passions. The next inquiry would naturally there- 
fore be, to ascertain from what particular aspects of the 
skies the varieties of fate and character proceed. Hence the 
theory of nativities, and that branch of the study which has 
brought the whole into such disrepute. Ptolemy had vainly 
warned his followers not to foretell particularly, but gene- 
rally, as one thatseeth a thing afar off; but not content with 
telling particularly, they alleged, in the very face of their 
fundamental position, that man possessed a power of alter- 
ing his destiny, by affirming that his will was free, and that 
he had the power of choice and election, forgetting that the 
foreknowledge of an apprehended future evil generated a 



I 



248 NOTES. 

motive which might lead to the adoption of the conduct by 
which it was avoided. 

The notion of the unalterability of the world, as the athe- 
istical astrologers entertained it, is at once curious and ab- 
surd, and warranted inferences which they would not per- 
haps have readily admitted Proceeding upon the supposi- 
tion that there does exist such a concordance in the universe 
as they maintained, it is obvious, from the motions of the 
earth, and of the system to which she belongs, that no two 
astrological observations could be found in the course of 
many ages precisely similar ; a general resemblance of effect 
is the utmost that could be obtained, until, in the progress 
of the various movements of the whole universe, the earth, 
in all respects, came again to the situation which she held, 
in relation to every other part, when the first observation 
was made. When she has done this, it must be allowed 
from the premises, that a new series of effects will com- 
mence in every thing resembling the past. History having 
finished her tale, will begin to repeat it ; and persons and 
events under the same names, and in the same forms as 
those of whom we have heard, will appear ; yea even for- 
tune-tellers, as foolish as those who have rendered astrology 
ridiculous, will again come ; and an essay, in no single 
phrase, point, or circumstance different from this, will, after 
the lapse of innumerable ages, be perused by such another 
being as thee, O courteous reader ! 

The professors of alchymy have written the records of 
their processes in a language of types and symbols as in- 
scrutable as that of the priests of Anubis. Whether they 
did or did not possess the art of making gold may be fairly 
questioned, until the knowledge of their secrets is complete, 
and their experiments have been renewed ; but that no na- 
tural impediment exists to the attainment of the art, Mr 
Davy has gone far to Bhow. From the reported testimony 
of one of themselves, it would appear that the hope of mak- 



NOTES. 249 

ing an immortalizing elixir was not seriously entertained by 
the alchymists. The utmost which they professed to make 
was a cordial which should refresh and preserve the animal 
spirits, when the frame was not vitally impaired. Possibly 
extricated from the cabalistic technical jargon which they 
used, their studies may have been both rational and ingeni- 
ous ; at least an opinion of them ought not to be formed 
from the ridicule which ignorant pretenders so justly pro- 
voked. John Frederick Helvetius, doctor and practitioner 
of medicine at the Hague in the year 1666, gives a curious 
account of a conversation which he had with an alchymist 
on the subject of the stone and the elixir, and which he in- 
troduces with a description of the alchymist's person, that, 
even in the bad translation before me, has the merit of being 
remarkably vivid and natural. 

The doctor inquired whether, by the use of that elixir 
which Elias affirmed was known to the alchymists, the pris- 
tine nature of man may be converted into a new one, the 
sad into cheerful? " Not at all, sir," said the artist, " for 
so great power was never conferred on any medicament that 
it could change the nature of man. Wine inebriating, taken 
by diverse individual men, in him who is drunk changeth 
not his nature, but only provokes, and deduceth into act 
what is naturally and potentially in him, but before was, as 
it were, dead. Even so is the operation of the universal me- 
dicine, which, by recreation of the vital spirits, excites sa- 
nity, for a time only suppressed, because it was naturally in 
him before ; even as the heat of the sun changeth not herbs 
or flowers, but only provokes the same, and from the proper 
potential nature of them, deduceth them into act only : for 
a man of a melancholy temper is again raised to exercise his 
own melancholy matters ; and the jovial man, who was plea- 
sant, is recreated in all his cheerful actions ; and so, conse- 
quently, in all desperate diseases, it is a present or most ex- 
cellent preservative." Soon after, he adds, « But if any 



250 NOTES. 

prolongation of life by some philosophic medicament could 
have been adduced against the predestination of the omni- 
potent God, undoubtedly neither Hermes, Trismegistus, or 
Paracelsus, or Raymund Lully,* or Count Bernhard, and 
many more like illustrious possessors of this great mystery, 
would not have yielded to the common death of all mortals, 
but, perhaps, have protracted their life until this very day. 
Therefore it would be the part of a fanatic and foolish man 
to affirm this, yea of a most foolish man to believe and as- 
sent to the same, touching any one medicament in the things 
of nature." 

Presently the conversation changed to the transmutation 
of metals ; and Helvetius affirms that Elias gave him a speci- 
men of the philosophers' stone, with which he performed a 
successful experiment. Helvetius himself does not appear 
to have been an alchymist ; he was unacquainted with the 
subjects of which Elias spoke, and had written a book 
against Sir Kenelm Digby, who professed to make a sympa- 
thetic powder which could cure wounds at a distance. In 
refuting the pretensions of Sir Kenelm, he had made use of 
some expressions relative to the pursuits of alchymy, which 
induced Elias to call on him. — Golden Calf, pp. 99, 100, ed. 
1670. A good name for such a book ! 

The Rosicrucians were a particular order of alchymists, 
and professed to be able to transmute the metals. The 
names of secret substances employed in the process were 
communicated to the members at their admission into the 
society, or rather the meaning of the symbolical language 
by which the materials were described was explained to 
them, and it was the use of that language which gave rise 
to the opinion, that the Rosicrucians held particular notions 
relative to spirits. They were, in fact, a society of experi- 



* Raymund Lully is said to have taught Edward III. the art of 
making gold. — Sinclair, Hitt. Revenue, p. 75, cd. 1785. 



NOTES. 251 

mental philosophers, and used, according to the fashion of 
the age in which the society was founded, a cabalistic mode 
of expression, in order to enhance the merits of their know- 
ledge. This society is still supposed to have some sort of an 
existence ; but whether its members believe they possess the 
key to the symbolical language, and are able to convert com- 
mon into precious metals, is not easy to be ascertained. I 
have met with a gentleman who said he was a Rosicrucian. 
There is a dictionary, in French, which says, that Ovid's 
Metamorphoses describe alchymical processes. I have not 
been able to meet with it. 

3. This great achievement roused throughout Christendom 
a similar spirit. Sect. vii. page 6. 

Henry VIII. was the first English king who established a 
navy. Ships, before his time, were hired from the mer- 
chants. The Trinity-house was instituted in 1512. 

4. Thomas Wolsey was born at Ipswich, in the month of 
March, 1471. Sect. ix. page 7. 

Parish registers were not instituted in England till 1535. 

5. His father, though of mean condition, possessed some 
property Sect. ix. page 7. 

It does not appear to be well authenticated that he was a 
butcher. See his will in Fiddes' Coll. No 1. 

C. Few so young, with all the advantages of rank and af- 
fluence, attained, in that age, academical honours. Sect. ix. 
page 7. 

Cardinal Pole, at the same age, was also made a B. A. 
His high birth, as well as his great talents, might have had 
some effect in procuring this distinction. 

7. He was also appointed master of the school. Sect. ix. 
page 7. 

Storer, who published his biographical poem of Wolsey in 
1599, describes his feelings, in this situation, in a lively and 
tasteful manner : — 



252 NOTES. 

u This silver tongue, methought, was never made 
With rhetoric's skill to teach each common swain. 

These deep conceits were never taught to wade 
In shallow brooks ; nor this aspiring vein 
Fit to converse among the shepherd train : 

I could not girt me, like a worthless groom, 

In coarser garment, wove of country loom. 

" Just cause I saw my titles to advance, 
Virtue my gentry, priesthood my descent, 

Saints my allies, the cross my cognizance, 

Angels the guard that watched about my tent, 
Wisdom that ushered me where'er I went. 

These are our honours, though the world withstand ; 

Our lands and wealth are in another land. 

" Yet, as through Tagus' fair, transparent streams, 
The wondering merchant sees the sandy gold ; 

Or, like to Cynthia's half- obscured beams 
In silent night, the pilot doth behold 
Through misty clouds and vapours manifold ; 

So, through a mirror of my hope for gain, 

I saw the treasure which I should obtain." 

8. Fur which one of the justices of the peace subjected him 

to disgraceful punishment. Sect. xi. page 8. 

Fiddes mentions that he was put in the stocks ; but Ca- 
vendish says, only that Sir Amias Paulet laid him by the 
heels. Fiddes may have been misled by a marginal note of 
Stowe. 

I find that I have made another memorandum, after read- 
ing the MS. copy of Cavendish, in the Harleian library. 
t* Mem. — Wolsey mentioned himself, when at Lymington, 
in order to be installed, that lie was called the boy bachelor. 
Sir Amias Paulet took an occasion of displeasure against 



NOTES. - 25 l J 

him ; upon what grounds I know not," says Cavendish, 
" but he was so bold as to set Wolsey by the feet during his 
pleasure." 

9. Commanded him to he in readiness for the embassy. 
Sect. xii. page 10. 

The business on which Wolsey was sent probably referred 
to the treaty recorded in Rymer's Foedera, vol. xiii. p. 127, 
It is dated loth May, 150G. 

10. For which he solicited his Majesty's pardon. Sect. 

xiii. page 11. 

Storer makes the Cardinal describe his mission very pret- 
tily : — 

u The Argonautic vessel never past 

With swifter course along the Colchian main, 
Than my small bark, with fair and steady blast, 
Convey 'd me forth, and reconvey'd again." 

11. He selected for ministers those counsellors of his 

father who were the most respected for their caution and, wis- 
dom. Sect. xv. page 12. 

Lord Herbert remarks, that there was no lawyer in this 
administration. 

12 Xo schism had yet, §c. Sect. xvii. page 14. 

Vide, concerning the subjects in question, Guicciardini, 
Fiddcs, and Burnet. 

Henry VIII. was the first king of England who had any 
correspondence with the Swiss. 

13. This singular encounter received the appropriate appel* 
lut ion of the Buttle <f the Spurt* Sect. xxii. page If). 

Father Daniel, in his account of this battle, gives an inte- 
resting and characteristic anecdote of Bayard The cheva- 
lier, with only fifteen men at arms, fighting as he retreated, 
gained a bridge, over which only two troopers could pass 
abreast. On this post, he repulsed a detachment of the impe- 
rial cavalry; but a party of English archerf getting to lii< 
rear, lie told his soldiers that it was propel ihcy should mii- 



254 NOTES. 

render, to avoid the destructive effects of the arrows. While 
waiting for this purpose till the enemy could come up, ob- 
serving, at a short distance, a man at arms of the combined 
forces, resting fatigued at the foot of a tree, with his helmet 
on the ground, he instantly rode to him. " Surrender, ca- 
valier," cried Bayard, " or you are a dead man." The asto- 
nished gentleman at once resigned his sword. u I am Cap- 
tain Bayard," added the chevalier, " and I now surrender 
myself your prisoner. Take my sword ; but on condition 
that it shall be restored, if, in going to your camp, I shall 
happen to be insulted." Bayard, after staying in the camp 
several days, grew anxious for new enterprises, and requested 
the man at arms to procure him liberty to return to the 
French camp. " Where is your ransom, chevalier ?*' an- 
swered the man at arms. " And where is yours?'' replied 
Bayard, " for you are my prisoner." The controversy that 
ensued was referred to the kings at arms, but they had no 
law for such an extraordinary case : appeal was therefore 
made to Henry and Maximilian, who decided in favour of 
Bayard, and he was permitted to return into France. 

N. B. It may be inferred, from this occurrence, that, in 
those days, prisoners, on account of their ransoms, were still 
considered as belonging to the soldiers who took them. I 
was not aware that the practice had continued so late. I 
have alluded to this transaction in my Travels. 

11-. Witli a jirovisionarj/ declaration of war, if satis- 
faction should be refused. Sect, xxiii. page 20. 

Pinkerton, whose researches have illustrated the transac- 
tions between the courts of England and Scotland, during 
the reigns of James IV. and his son, more fully than any of 
the historians who have written of that period, gires an ac- 
count to the following effects of the origin of this war. Let- 
ters of reprisal had been granted to Andrew, Robert, and 
John Barton, sons of John Barton, who, in the year 1476, 
commanded a rich merchant ship, which a Portuguese 



NOTES. %55 

squadron captured, and for the loss of which the sufferers 
could not otherwise obtain indemnity. Although the lapse 
of thirty years might have abated the sense of injury, the 
Bartons were active in revenging their domestic misfortunes. 
Emanuel, king of Portugal, remonstrated against their de- 
predations on his subjects, and offered a judicial examina- 
tion of their claims ; but as he neglected a message, which, 
four years before, James had sent to conciliate the dispute, 
and to restore the ancient amity of the two nations, his remon- 
strance and offer were equally disregarded, and the Bartons 
repaid the loss sustained by their father, from the spoil of the 
Portuguese trade, which, in consequence of the discovery of 
the maritime route to India, by Gama, was then the richest 
in the world. Andrew Barton, with two vessels, the Lion, 
a large ship of war, and the Jenny Pirwen, an armed sloop, 
traversed the narrow seas, to the annoyance of the English 
vessels, which he molested, upon pretence of searching for 
Portuguese goods. The English merchants complained of 
this grievance ; and, in consequence, Lord Thomas Howard, 
and Sir Edward Howard, sons of the Earl of Surrey, were 
sent, with two ships, in pursuit of Barton, whom they met 
in the Downs. After an obstinate conflict, the Scottish 
commander fell, and the Howards were victorious. James, 
exceedingly vexed by the event, and the loss of so gallant an 
officer, despatched a herald to the English court, to claim re- 
paration ; but Henry only answered, that the fate of pirates 
should never occasion disputes among princes. 

A more minute cause of enmity arose from another pri- 
vate feud. Sir Robert Ker, cup-bearer to James, and also 
warden of the middle march, having been severe in the ad- 
ministration of the latter office, was slain by Heron, Lil- 
burn, and Starked, three turbulent English borderers. 
Henry VII., in whose reign this outrage was perpetrated, 
gave up Lilbum. Starked and Heron escaped ; but Heron 
of Ford, brother to the murderer, was given no as a pi-. 



256 NOTES. 

for the surrender of the latter, and was imprisoned in Fast- 
calle, with Lilburn, who died there. Soon after the acces- 
sion of Henry VIII., Starked and Heron re-appeared, as if 
conscious that they should be protected. Andrew Ker, son 
of Sir Robert, acquainted with this fact, sent two of his 
servants to punish the assassins of his father, and they re- 
turned with Starked's head, which Ker exposed with im- 
punity in one of the most public places in Edinburgh. 

Pinkerton also mentions a domestic provocation which 
Henry had given to the family of Scotland, by evading the 
delivery of a legacy of valuable jewels, bequeathed to the 
queen by her father. The character of Margaret was not 
unlike her brother's, bold and fiery. In one of her letters 
to him, she upbraids him for his pitiful conduct concerning 
the legacy, and desires no more may be said of it, as her 
husband grew every day more and more kind to her, and 
would pay the value of the legacy himself. " We are 
ashamed," she adds, " therewith, and would God never 
word had been thereof: it is not worth such estimation as 
is in your diverse letters of the same." 

The grand source of the war must still however be looked 
for in the principles which had, for many ages, induced the 
government of Scotland to prefer the policies of France to 
those of England. For, on the 10th July, 1512, James ra- 
tified a league, previously arranged, by which he, in fact, 
united himself to Louis, although more than another year 
after was consumed in fruitless and insincere negotiation. 

15. Battle of Flodden — an event which the Scottish 

nation hare never eeased to deplore in the finest strains of their 
fwetrif and music* Sect, xxiii. page S3. 

The following ballad on this subject has never before been 
published : — 

Till; WEARY NIOHT or PLODDSM FIGHT. 

The clouds, like Hakes of living flame, 
Float round the setting ran : 



NOTES. 

The warder winds his buglehorn, 
To tend the evening gun. 

The windows to the western sheen, 

As with triumphal light, 
Are blazing all, " And comes none yet 

With tidings from the fight ?" 

Queen Margaret, from the castle tower, 

With anxious accent cries ; 
The warder, as he walks the wall, 

" None yet," full sad replies. 

The town is out, the streets are still, 
As the lown o' Sunday's rest ; 

The gutchard loads the gilly's arm, 
The bairn the mother's breast. 

But whar's the gallants of the town, 

That maidens stray forlorn ? 
They're all at Flodden with the king, 

O when will they return ? 

They come, they come : Lord Huntly now 
Rides foremost from the field ; 

No foe has crush'd his plume of pride, 
Nor hack'd his painted shield. 

But why so soon, and all so trim, 
Hath Huntly homeward sped ? 

His clan in sullen silence pass, — 
" O recreants, have ye fled?" 



257 



And now, all in the nightly gloom, 
The castle shines afar, 



258 NOTES. 

Bright as Orion's giant form, 
Thick gemm'd with many a star. 

In heaven's high floor, the stellar chinks, 

Whence peers celestial light, 
And saints look down on mortal men, 

Are open all and bright. 

A horse ! a horse ! a herald comes, — 

A herald from the king ! 
What ho ! what ho ! how fares the fight ? 

What tidings does he bring ? 

Ah ! sure such silent cheerless haste 

Denotes no gladsome tale ; 
Fond maids all piteous weeping cry, 

And boding matrons wail. 

And see the scud of angels' spears 

Streams up the northern sky ; 
They war with fiends to save the souls 

Of who unhousel'd die. 

The abbot of old Paisley said, 

Full wily as he stood, 
With th' provost on the castle-hill, 

And thanes by eild subdued, 

" What shrieks are these, what shrieks of woe, 
Why climbs the crowd the hill?" 

" O rest, my heart," queen Margaret cries, 
" My faltering heart, lie still." 

Full well I ween the warden then, 
Regardless of her call. 






NOTES. 259 

Cries, as a horseman shoots the gate, 
" Let the pontlevice fall." 

The crowd throngs on, with wringing hands, 

To learn the news implore : 
<c The king is slain, and all is lost, 

And Scotland is no more." 

Alack, alack ! in rapturous grief, 

The matrons clap their hands, 
And every fond and faithful maid 

In dumb dejection stands. 

Along the walls, from keep and tower, 

Wild hurried torches flare ; 
The distant hills have heard the news, 

And all their beacons glare. 

As fraught with weltering weed and wreck, 

Through Flamburgh's fatal caves, 
Their foam-crests eddying in the winds, 

Resound the ocean waves : 

As drives the scatter'd storm beneath 

The painted arch of heaven, 
So rush the remnants of the field, 

With banners few and riven. 

With ring of mail, and tramp of hoof, 

They thunder through the bow ; 
But heartless vassals they are all, 

For all their chiefs lie low. 

And now the provost, while he weeps, 
Plucks up a manly heart, 
S 



260 NOTES. 

And bids the woeful wailing throng 
Forthwith to home depart. 

With saintly love, and cheering prayers, 

Soft mingled for relief, 
Good priests and lords, from Flodden spared, 

Would sooth Queen Margaret's grief. 

" King Harry is my brother dear, 

Though fiery fierce he be, 
He has a ruth and royal soul, 

And will prove kind to me." 

" And should he not ?" cried Angus' heir ; 

" The Douglas still is true, 
With pith enough in Scotland left 

Still to make Southrons rue." 

The brightest gem in Margaret's crown 

Lord Douglas would despise, 
Compared with the repaying tears 

That beam'd in her fair eyes. 

So pass'd the night in Edinburgh town, 

When Flodden field was lost ; 
And all the gallant chivalry 

Of Scotland's crown was crost. 

16. James had died under sentence of excommunica- 
tion. Sect. xxiv. page 23. 

The treaty, by the violation of which James was excom- 
municated, is signed by Andro of Murray. Rymer's Fcedc- 
ra, vol. xiii. p. 261. It was ratified by James himself, at 
Edinbuvgh, on the 28th November, 1509. Same vol. p. 
268. 



NOTES. 261 

17. The news of the victory was communicated to Henry 
by the Earl of Surrey, and to Wolsey by Queen Katherine. 
Sect. xxiv. page 23. 

In looking over a book of old papers in the British Mu- 
seum, I found the following memorandum written on the 
back of the return of a muster-roll of an officer in the camp 
of Terouenne. It was probably made when the news of the 
victory arrived. 

" The kinge of Scotts was fownd, slayn, by my Lord Da- 
kers in the fronte of his batayll, and also the Lord Maxwell 
and his brother the Lord Harrycs, Erie Crauford, who is 
knowen, and the kynge of Scotts body is closed in lede and 
be kept till the kynges pleasure is knowen in Barwicke, and 
were slayn XI or XII M Scotts beside them that were slayn 
in the chase, and III bishops, and of Englishmen but III C 
p'sonys slayn." 

18. He had been scarcely invested with this new honour. 
Sect, xxviii. page 25. 

He was consecrated on the 2Gth of March, 1514. 

J 9. In the meantime, Pope Julius II. Sect. xxix. page 25. 

It is somewhat extraordinary, that a work so generally read 
as Hume's History of England should pass through several 
editions for the last twenty years, with the omission of the 
character of Pope Julius II. The passage alluded to may be 
found in the early editions of Hume's England in the reign 
of Henry VIII. about the year 1510, and on the subject of 
the league of Cambray. It exhibits one of those sketches of 
character for which Hume is justly celebrated, and in his 
best manner. The style is vigorous, the colouring impres- 
sive, and the whole piece indicates the hand of a master. It 
is as follows : — 

" Alexander the Sixth was dead ; a man of a singular 
character, and, excepting his son, Ciesar Borgia, almost the 
only man we read of in history who has joined great capa- 
city with the blackest vices and the most abandoned profli- 
gacy of manners. After a short interval, Julius the Second 



262 NOTES. 

had succeeded to the papal throne, who, though endowed with 
many virtues, gave almost as much scandal to the world as his 
detested predecessor ; his virtues were deemed unsuitable to 
his station of sovereign pontiff, the spiritual judge, .and com- 
mon father of Christians. Actuated by an unextinguishable 
thirst of glory, inflexible in his schemes, undaunted in his 
enterprises, indefatigable in his pursuits, magnanimous, im- 
perious, domineering, his vast soul broke through all the 
fetters which old age and the priestly character imposed up- 
on it, and, during his pontificate, kept the world in perpe- 
tual agitation." 

20. Abandoned him to the vengeance of all Christen' 

dom as an odious schismatic. Sect. xxx. page 26. 

Lord Herbert. 

21. It was understood he had come to Paris in order 

to marry the dowager. Sect, xxxiii. page 27. 

Fiddes. 

22. The great seal was given him for life, with the 

dignity of chancellor of the realm. Sect. xxxv. page 28. 

Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, was his predecessor. 
Between him and Wolsey a grudge had arisen from a mat- 
ter of ecclesiastical etiquette. York claims primacy of Eng- 
land, Canterbury of all England ; but Wolsey presumed to 
encroach on the jurisdiction of Canterbury, which led to 
vexation on the part of Warham, who saw that it was una- 
vailing to contend against his influence. Prior to the erec- 
tion of St Andrew's into an archbishopric, the jurisdiction of 
York extended over the Scottish bishops. The Christians 
in Scotland were never altogether under the papal sway, al- 
though the Roman Catholic religion was the established. — 
See SibbahVs History of Fyfe. — Warham appears to have 
been of a contentious disposition ; for, in a controversy be- 
tween him and Fox, Bishop of Winchester, Julius II. was 
obliged to interfere, and wrote to the king to stop their dis- 
putes. The letter is still extant, dated at Rome, 13th March, 
ir>i2.—Cot Ionian Librae*, Vtlrll. n. u. No I • 



NOTES TO BOOK SECOND. 



1. ■ The investiture which had been made according to 

the treaty of Cambray. Sect. ii. page 30. 
Lord Herbert. 

2. He subdued the Aladolites, and, descending from their 
mountains upon Persia, defeated the sophy, and took possession 
of Touris. Sect. vii. page 35. 

General Monk mentions, that Selim was induced to un- 
dertake the invasion of Persia by the representation of one 
of the pashaws. The information however which the pa- 
shaw had given of the state of the country through which 
his march lay, was so incorrect, that the army lost a vast 
number of men, and suffered great hardships in those de- 
serts, which had proved so disastrous to the Roman legions. 
Considering the pasha w justly responsible for his advice and 
information, he ordered him to be put to death, although 
the enterprise had proved successful. — Observations on Mili- 
tary and Political Affairs, folio edit, page 20. 

3. They had sometimes proved victorious over the 

numerous Ottoman armies. Sect. viii. page 30. 

Guicciardini. 

4. The emperor, with the horse and foot of his dominions, 
was to proceed by the Danube, and through Bosnia, towanls 
Constantinople. Sect. x. page .'{7. 

I passed along part of this route in my journey to Wid- 
din, and have described the country. 



264 NOTES. 

5. Discovered a ludicrous collection of the crumbs 

and scraps of beggary* Sect. xi. page 39. 

Hall. 

6. Turned their thoughts again to the modes and 

means of overreaching each other. Sect. xi. page 39. 

Guicciardini, lib. xiii. 

7. Many national distinctions, which are better esti- 
mated by the feelings than by the judgment of mankind. 
Sect. xiii. page 40. 

The diplomatic inferiority of the English is of a very an- 
cient date. William Tindall, in his Practices of Popish 
Prelates, says, that " the Frenchmen of late days made a 
play or a disguising at Paris, in which the emperor danced 
with the pope and the French king, and wearied them ; the 
kind of England sitting on a high bench and looking om 
And when it was asked why he danced not, it was answer- 
ed, that he sate there but to pay the minstrels their wages 
only ; as who should say, we pay for all men's dancing." — 
Wordsworth's Eccl. Biog. vol. i. page 379. 

8. After twenty days' learning, they should be obliged 

to depart. Sec. xiv. page 42. 
Lord Herbert. 

9. — — The French had never ceased to grudge the loss of 
Tournay. Sect xvi. page 43. 

This place the king had but little comfort of, being al- 
ways in fear of surprise. The Cardinal had again another 
time in the month of May, whether in the year 1514 or 
1515 I know not, intelligence brought him by a friar, whom 
he had employed as a spy, of a sudden attempt intended to 
be made on the place : of which the Cardinal and the coun- 
cil, from the palace at Hampton-court, wrote to Sir Richard 
Jernigan, now the king's lieutenant there, as certain news. 
This was wrote the 9 th of May, and such speed was made, 



NOTES. 265 

that on the 11th, at night, the said lieutenant received it. — 
Strype's Eccl. Mem. vol. i. page 11. ed. 1733- 

10. ■ ■ Henry was justly incensed at this, and wrote to 
his minister at the Papal court. Sec. xvi. p. 44. 

This prelate bequeathed a palace in Rome to the king of 
England^ and which was afterwards called the English pa- 
lace. It is now possessed by the Colonna family. — Fiddes, 
171. 

11. " A great dishonour to the pope to have acted so 

indiscreetly. ^ Sect. xvi. page 44. 

Fiddes's Coll. No 4. 

12. Mary to be held as betrothed to the dauphin. 

Sect. xvi. page 45. 

There was something ludicrous in this article, for the 
dauphin was not then born, but the queen was with 
child. 

13. — — It was likewise arranged that the courts of 
France and England should next year hold a friendly meeting 
on the plains of Picardy. Sect. xvi. page 45. 

Lord Herbert. 

14. " It is honourable to both," said Francis, " to 

desire an increase of dignity.'" Sect, xviii. page 46. 

Guicciardini, lib. xiii. 

15. In every place it was illuminated with the luslrc 

of precious stones. Sect. xxii. page 50. 

Erasmus. 

16. A treaty was indeed concluded* Sect, xxiii. page 52. 
Rymcr's Fadera. June 6, 1620. 

17. When Charles departed to be croia/ted e mpe ror, 

the people openly rebelled, assembled the Junta, ike. Sect. 
xxvi. page .!> j. 

Guicciardini, lib. xiii. 

18. This proposal WOi accepted, and the Cardinal 

went to the place appointed. Sect. xxvi. page 55. 

August 1521. 






266 NOTES. 

!9- He permitted the Duke of Albany to depart fur 

Scotland. Sect, xxviii. page 56. 

He reached Edinburgh on the 30th October, 1521. 

20- The pope consented to dispense with the obstacles 

of their affinity. Sect. xxix. page 58. 

Lord Herbert, 108. 



NOTES TO BOOK THIRD. 



1. Their inhabitants {the monasteries) did not lan- 
guish for the want of any species of voluptuous enjoyment. 
Sect. ii. page 61. 

Burnet, 21. 

2. They are the sources of those peculiar restraints 

on territorial wealth by which the claims of creditors and the 
operations of equity are frustrated. Sect. ii. page CI. 

Although agriculture be the basis of all national prosperity, 
it is treated in this country as a pursuit subordinate to the 
fisheries. Medals and toys are distributed for its encourage- 
ment by clubs and individuals, as if such puerilities were 
sufficient to counteract the effect of a systematic castration 
of the industry of the farmer, by maintaining, in despite of 
right and justice, those laws which were originally framed 
to repress the rapacity of the clergy. 

:*. Sometimes, it is true, the dramas exhibited in the cathe- 
drals emitted a feeble ray of poetical genius in the midst of the 
most obscure bjn-omachies ; but if only screed to make the sur- 
rounding dot /mess visible. Sect. ii. page CI. 

There is a very pretty monkish morality in the British 
Museum ; the subject of which is the incredulity of Thomas. 
— Coitonian {Library) Vespasian , D. VI J L 



268 NOTES. 

The piece opens with a dialogue : Eneas and Cleophas. 

Cleophas. Brother Eneas, I you pray, 
Pleasing to you, if that it be, 
To the castle then a little way 
That you vouchsafe to go with me. 

Eneas. Already, brother, I walk with thee 

To yonder castle with right good cheer : 
Ruing together, anon go we, 
Brother Cleophas, we two, in fear. 

Cleophas. Brother Eneas, I am sore mov'd 

When Christ our master comes in my mind, 
When that I think how he was griev'd 
Joy in my heart I none can find : 
He was so lowly, so good, so kind, 
Holy of life, and meek of mood, 
Alas ! the Jews eyes they were too blind 
Him for to kill, that was so good. 
They continue to discourse on the crucifixion, wheu 
Christ joins them, and requests to walk with them in fel- 
lowship. 

In the same volume, there is another composition still 
more singular. It is no less than a rude dramatic outline of 
the subject of Milton's Paradise Lost. It opens with one Deus 
giving the following account of himself : 

My name is known, God and King, 
My work to make well I wend, 
In myself rcsteth my reign-ing, 
It hath no ginning nor none end, 
And all that ever shall have being 
It is inclosed in my mind : 
When it is made at my likeing, 



NOTES. 269 

I may it save, I may it chind, 

After my pleasure. 
So great of might is my powstie, 
All things that be belong to me ; 
I am a God, in person three 

Knit in one substance, 
I am the true Trinitie 
Here walking in the wone, 
Three persons myself I see. 
Locking in me God alone 
I am the fader of powstie, 
My son with me ginneth gone, 
My ghost is grace, in majestic 
I willeth" wealth up in heaven's throne. 
One God three I call ; 
I am father of might, 
My son keepcth right, 
My ghost hath light 
And grace with all ; 
Myself beginning never did take, 
And endless I am through my own might. 
First I made heaven with stars of light 
In mirth and joy ever more to wake, 
In heaven I bceld angels full bright 
My servants to be all for my sake, 
With mirth and melody worship my might. 
I held them in my bliss, 
Angels in heav'n ever more shall be 
With mirth and song to worship mu 
And joys they may not wis. 

Here angels enter singing hallelujah. Lucifer then says, 
To whose worship sing ye this song, 
To worship God, or reverence me ? 



270 NOTES. 

But ye me worship ye do me wrong, 
For I am the worthiest that e'er may be. 

Angel Boni. We worship God of might most strong, 
Who hath formed both us and thee ; 
We may ne'er worship him too long, 
For he is most worthy of majestie. 
On knee to God we fall, 
Our Lord God worship we, 
And in no wise honoureth we thee, 
A greater lord may ne'er now be 
Than he that made us all. 

Lucifer. A worthier lord, forsooth, am I, 

And worthier than he e'er will be. 
In evidence that I am more worthie 
I will go sitten in God's see. 
Above sun, moon, and stars or sky, 
I am now set as ye may see. 
Now worship me for most might, 
And for your lord honour now me 
Sitting in my seat. 

Angel Mali. God mighty we forsake, 

And for more mighty we thee take, 
Thee to worship honour we make, 
And fall down at thy feet. 

Deus. Thee, Lucifer, for thy mighty pride, 
I bid thee fall from heaven to hell ; 
And all who holden on thy side 
In iny bless never more to dwell, 
At my commandment anon down them rlyde 
With mirth and joy never more to well ; 
In mischief and mOTOfl ay shall they abide, 



NOTES. 271 

In bitter burning and fire so fell, 
In pain ever to be pight. 

Lucifer. At thy bidding that will I work, 

And pass from joy to pain so smart. 

Now I am a devil full dark 

That was an angel bright. 

Now to hell the way I take 

In endless pain into be pight. 

For fear of fire a faint I crake 

In hell's dungeon my doom is dight. 

Deus. Now heaven is made for angels' sake 
The first day and the first night ; 
The second day water I make, 
The welkin also so fair and light. 

N. B. — The reader, I am sure, will readily pardon the 
length of this curious quotation. Before Milton's day, his 
subject, if not attempted in prose, was certainly in rhyme. 
I am not aware that either of these two holy operas has ever 
been printed or quoted. 

4>. The hull issued on that occasion is the Jirst on re- 
cord, by which a limit was put to a general privilege of the 
church. Sect. iii. page G2. 

19th June, 1504. 

5. The swarm of monks, who, from the days of the 

Saxon kings, had continued to multiply. Sect. iii. page 62. 

The extant accounts of the ancient British monks are very 
imperfect; they are sufficient, however, to show that the 
number was very great, and obedient to the bishop of Caer- 
leon, as all the monks of the early ages of the church were 
to their bishops, according to the canons of the council of 
Chalcedon. During the ravages of the Danes, they were so 
much reduced, that the order was almost destroyed, and 



272 NOTES. 

their houses rendered every where desolate, till King Edgar 
was persuaded to restore them. He erected forty-seven mo- 
nasteries, which he intended to increase to fifty — the jubilee 
number ; and, from that period, monkery continued to thrive 
in England. In his reign, the celibacy of the clergy was es- 
tablished ; for those who refused to part with their wives 
xvere then expelled from their livings by Dunstan, Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, Ethelwald, Bishop of Winchester, and 
Oswald, Bishop of Worcester. The exemption of the mo- 
nasteries from episcopal and regal jurisdiction did not, how- 
ever, fully prevail until some time after. 

6. From the election of Alexander VI. the venality and vices 
of the pontifical government became notorious. Sect. v. page 63. 

Guicciardini. 

7. Even after he had been provoked to assail the papal sa- 
craments, he showed himself still so much inclined to maintain 
exclusive prerogatives to the clergy. Sect. vi. page 65. 

His consent that the landgrave of Hesse should marry two 
wives, was, at least, a questionable dispensation. It may 
very fairly be said, either to have originated in a motive to 
gain the landgrave fully to his will, or to have been the be- 
ginning of new ecclesiastical dogmas, which circumstances 
afterwards frustrated. 

8. Whether his {Luthci' s) rebellion against the jx>pc 

was inspired by religious integrity, or by carnal re v e nge. 
Sect. vi. page 65. 

Among the many weapons by which Luther was resisted, 
one was certainly peculiar to that age. Some of the astrolo- 
gers took pains to shew that he had a very disadvantageous 
horoscope, and therefore could not succeed in his undertak- 
ings ; others held opposite opinions, and declared that ho 
was destined to be a great man. — Fiddrs, />. 1 17, id. 1794 

9. Indulgences of the viost odious descripti* n urn- sold 

in taverns and bagnios* Sect. vi. page <;<;. 

Guicciardini, lib. xiv. 



NOTES. 



273 



10. While the shrines were broken in Europe, the altars 

and idols of Asia and of the New World were also shaken and 
overthrown. Sect. vii. page 69. 

Lipsius and Paul Jovius. 

1 1. The author was compared to Solomon, and magnified 

for wisdom above all Christian princes that had ever existed. 
Sect. viii. page Q9. 

Burnet. 

12. With the concurrence of the consistory, he bestowed 

the title (//"Defender of the Faith, as if the truth required 
any champion. Sect. viii. page 69. 

Fiddes mentions, that it appears from a charter of Richard 
II. to the university of Oxford, that he made use of the title 
of the Defender of the Faith.— Page 285. 

Fuller says, in his Church History, " There went a tradi- 
tion that Patch, the king's jester, perceiving the king very 
jocund one day, asked him the reason, and when the king 
told him it was because of his new title Defender of the 
Faith, the jester made this arch reply : ' Pr'ythee, good 
Harry, let thee and me defend one another, and let the faith 
alone to defend itself.' " — liapin, vol. i. page 749, note 3> 
folio ed. 

13. They regarded all foreigners as barbarians. Sect. 

ix. page 70. 

Guicciar. lib. xiv. 

1 1. The cardinals, with their usual blasphemy, ascribed 

it to a special interfere nee of the Holy Ghost. Sect. X. page 72. 

Guicciardini, lib. xiv. 

1.5. // has been alleged, thai C 'harles did not exert himself 

on this occasion for the advancement of the Cardinal as he had 
promised ; but the contrary is the fact. Sect. x. page 73. 

Charles certainly did write to his ambassador at Home, to 
solicit the cardinals to elect Wolsey to the papacy. There 
is a letter of his to this effect, dated :50th December, 1521, 
in the Cottonian Library. Vitellius, B. IV. Xo 103. 

S 



274 NOTES. 

16. — He was next, in line of blood, to the crown, in the 
event of Henry V I I.' s family becoming extinct. Sect. xi. p. 
73-4. 

The following is the genealogy of Buckingham from 
Edward III. 



Thomas Duke of Gloucester. 



Earl of Buckingham=Eleanor Bohun, d. 1397. 



Ann=Edmund Earl of Stafford. 



Humphrey Duke of Buckingham. 



Humphrey died vita patris. 

Harry, beheaded 1485, father of Edward. 

17. — This antipathy, the narrow jealousy of aristocratic ar- 
rogance, was probably exasperated by the contempt with which 
it was retaliated. Sect. xi. page 74. 

The origin of Buckingham's hatred of Wolsey has been 
ascribed to various occurrences ; but I think it more likely 
to have arisen from that indescribable antipathy which may 
have been produced by the character of the Cardinal operat- 
ing on the pride and rash temperament of the duke. The 
incidents which are said to have caused their quarrel, I re- 
gard only as occurrences which served to publish the animo- 
sity of Buckingham. Some have said that the duke, holding 
the basin and towel to the emperor and the king at Canter- 
bury, was enraged at the Cardinal for also attempting to 
wash his fingers while he held it. But this anecdote is not 
well authenticated, and is told in several different ways. 
Besides, those who lay stress on it must exculpate Wolsey 
from having resolved on the overthrow of Buckingham when 
he sent Surrey to Ireland, as the earl had departed tor Dub- 
lin before the court removed to Canterbury, when this quar- 
rel should have taken place. 

There is another story which seems to illustrate the cha- 



NOTES. 275 

racter of the duke. One of the king's sworn servants 
having, without leave, removed into the service of Buck- 
ingham, was, on refusing to return, imprisoned by order 
of Wolsey ; and being accused of this demeanour in the 
Star-chamber, and before the king in person, was found 
guilty, and obliged to return to his duty. Buckingham con- 
strued this proceeding into a personal affront, and never 
after ceased from reviling the Cardinal's administration. 

18. — A short time before his departure from London, his 
son-in-law, the Earl of Surrey, appointed viceroy of Ireland, 
had proceeded to Dublin. Sect. xii. page 75. 

April, 1520. 

It has been regularly alleged, from the days of Polidore 
Vergil to those of Rapin, that Surrey was sent to Ireland in 
order that he might be out of the way when the ruin of the 
duke was determined. But the fact appears to be, that the 
Earl of Surrey was sent to Ireland a year before the arrest 
of Buckingham, and some time previous to the discharge of 
the servant, by whose evidence his desires were disclosed. 

19. — The lamentations, therefore, which accompanied his 
condemnation and execution (Buckingham's). Sect. xv. page 77. 

17 th May, 1521. 

20. — This was rendered the more probable, as Queen Mar- 
garet, in consequence of a domestic disagreement, had detached 
herself from the English party, and opeidy declared that she- 
was accessary to Albany's return. Sect. xvi. page 78. 

The Duke of Albany had certainly been recalled to Scot- 
land by a large party in the state. The queen herself had 
invited him. After the battle of Flodden, she had married 
the young Earl of Angus, who proving an unfaithful hus- 
band, she had endeavoured, by the means of Albany, to pro- 
cure a divorce ; and among other causes that she alleged 
for seeking this indulgence, was a report that King James 
had not been killed in the battle, but was alive at the period 
of her second marriage. Henry disapproved of this proceed- 



^«0 NOTES. 

ing, and came to high words with his sister, who answered 
him in a letter of no small pith and spirit- Francis certainly 
connived at the return of Albany into Scotland, but there is 
no evidence which distinctly proves that he directly insti- 
gated it ; on the contrary, Albany, it appears, was openly in- 
vited to assume the regency of Scotland. — Lord Herbert — 
See also Appendix. 
Rapin, 750. 

21. — The warden of the marches was accordingly com- 
manded to pass the borders. Sect xvi. page 78. 

8th Feb. 1522. Stow, 515. 

22. — Francis had ordered the goods, debts, and persons of 
the English in Bourdeanx to be arrested. Sect- xvii. page 79. 

6th March, 1522. 

23. — The Cardinal instantly , on receiving the news, teat Jin 
the French ambassador, §c. Sect. xvii. page 79. 

" Laid sore to his charge." The Cardinal appears to have 
been in the practice of doing this to the foreign ambassa- 
dors whenever he was displeased with the conduct of their 
courts. In an extract of a letter from Sir Thomas Boleync 
and Dr Sampson, dated at Valladolide, the 8th of March, 
1523, and which I have introduced in the Appendix, they 
say, " Truth it is, they think your grace very sore in words 
to the ambassadors, the which, as is reported, they take not 
here as in the best part. Monsieur de Nassau showed us, 
that one day your grace said you would the emperor .should 
show the money in hand for the great expedition, like as the 
king's highness shall for his part ; otherwise you would be- 
lieve nothing that the emperor should or might do ; and that 
your grace should have said other words, the which he could 
not rehearse, and would they had not been spoken." Wol- 
sey treated them very properly ; it would have been well if 
later ministers had dealt as plainly. 

24. — Like fin' circulation of tin />/"<></, then very iwtper* 
fecthf known. Sect, xviii. page 80. 



NOTES. 277 

Dr Harvey did not discover, but ouly demonstrated the 
circulation of the blood. Among many other notices of a 
knowledge of its motion in different writings, Brutus says 
to Portia, that she was 

" As dear to me as are the ruddy drops 
" That visit my sad heart." — Julius Caesar. 

25. Property, which is the basis of political power, was an- 
ciently the legal and constitutional criterion of intellectual ca- 
pacity. Sect, xviii. page 81. 

Property is the foundation of political privilege and power. 
Statutes and institutions may, for a time, suspend, but they 
cannot alter its consequence, nor prevent the possessors from 
recovering, sooner or later, their rightful influence in society. 
Under the feudal system, the value of property was fully re- 
cognised. In proportion to the extent and opulence of a 
man's estate were his privileges and authorities. 

" Proud with victory, with riches, and with independence, 
the conquerors of the Romans separated to enjoy their pos- 
sessions and their grandeur. They continued, as of old, to 
possess a military authority and a civil jurisdiction. The 
prerogatives, which before they had arrogated as due to 
their merit, they now enjoyed as holders of fiefs. In war, 
they commanded their vassals and retainers, and they judged 
of their disputes in times of peace. The inhabitants of their 
territories were soldiers and subjects. Their castles and 
household bore a resemblance to the palace and establish- 
ment of the sovereign. They had their officers and their 
courts of justice ; and they exercised the powers of punish- 
ment and mercy. They continued to exert the privilege of 
making war of their private authority ; and the sovereigns 
of Europe could behold subjects in arms, who infringed not 
their allegiance to the state." — Stewart's View >>/' Society in 
Europe, sect. 3- 

The Dukls, or LOBDfl Palatini;, enjoyed powcra like 
those of the sovereign : they coined money, enacted Uwa, \t ■ 



278 NOTES. 

vied taxes, raised troops, and exercised the prerogative of life 
and death. The king's writs did not run within the bounds 
of their territories. They could remove from his courts the 
suits of their vassals ; and they might demand back all cri- 
minals who had fled from their authority. They engrossed 
whatever referred to the civil, the criminal, and the military 
powers. 

The Eauls of counties, and those towns which were 
counties within themselves, judged of all civil deeds, deter- 
mined concerning all crimes, except the pleas of the crown ; 
and when no appeal was carried to the sovereign, their offi- 
cers put in execution their decisions. 

Viscounts were, originally, only the deputies of the 
earls. 

The Barons possessed a jurisdiction similar to that of the 
earls, but it was confined within the limits of their own do- 
mains. 

Tenants holding lands on the tenure of providing for the 
array of the kingdom, the service of more than one knight or 
soldier in full armour, exercised an authority in many re- 
spects similar to that of a modern justice of the peace ; and 
those who were bound to furnish only one knight also en- 
joyed a degree of manorial jurisdiction ; even the vassals, 
who held but the eighth part of knight's service of land, 
were not without a due proportion of juridical power. 

A fraction of land, of which the grant, by the agreement 
of the giver and the receiver, entitled to the service of a sol- 
dier or a knight, was a knight's fee. An estate of two hun- 
dred fees furnished two hundred knights. 

The regular fractions of the fee, or knight's service, wen 
eight parts, which were termed its members ; and which had 
this appellation from their being bound to perform the pur- 
poses of the grant. Of these, the possessors, according to the 
feudal rules, had manors and jurisdictions. The fee was 
dismembered beyond the eight portions, into the twentieth, 
the thirtieth, the fortieth parts, and into fragments still more 



NOTES. 279 

minute. Hence the origin of the wee Scottish lairds, and 
that contemptible crew, who call themselves nobility, the ba- 
rons of Germany. 

Although the Christian clergy succeeded to the rights of 
the priests of the nations that destroyed the Roman empire, 
and as ministers of religion obtained admission into the na- 
tional assemblies, it was not till after the fiefs became per- 
petual that they appeared there as barons ; and it was the 
bishops only who sat in consequence of their spiritual func- 
tions, as well as by their temporal possessions. The abbots 
were admitted into the parliaments only by their territorial 
rights. 

Besides the territorial privileges of individuals, communi- 
ties were erected into corporations, and endowed with char- 
ters which conferred upon their magistrates a similar juris- 
diction. Hence the origin of towns, boroughs, and cities. 
In England, under the Saxon government, several towns 
enjoyed extensive privileges ; and in Scotland, burghers, in 
parliament, were of greater antiquity than knights of the 
shires. The earls of cities had jurisdiction over the places 
from which they derived their titles, similar to that which 
was possessed by the earls of counties. Bishops were of the 
same rank as earls. Marquises were not known anciently in 
England ; and their rank in the orders of nobility is higher 
among us than it was on the continent. 

As property constitutes the only solid and independent 
basis of political power ; ability, where property is unre- 
strained by exclusive laws, will, in proportion to its degree, 
divide the possession. Privileges ought therefore naturally 
to be distributed in proportion to possessions; and, that 
power and ability may be united, property should be re- 
' leased from all exclusive laws, limitations of inheritance, 
and entail But as there are two kinds of property, the one 
local and durable, the other floating and variable, the pos- 
sessors of the one kind should be distinguished from those 



280 NOTES. 

of the other kind. The power of the monied interest should 
be different from that of the landed interest. 

The military service of the subjects was anciently, in 
England, as regularly proportioned to their property as the 
degrees of power. By the 27th of Henry II. it was enacted, 
that whoever holds one knight's fee shall have a coat of mail, 
a helmet, a shield, and a lance ; and every lay landholder 
(mark the exemption of ecclesiastical landholders) as many 
coats of mail, helmets, shields, and lances, as he has knights' 
fees in his domain. Every free layman, having chattels or 
rent to the value of sixteen marks, shall keep a coat of mail, 
a helmet, and a lance. Every free layman, having in chat- 
tels or rent ten marks, shall have a habergeon, a chaplet of 
iron, and a lance ; also all burgesses, and the whole com- 
munity of freemen, shall have each a wambies, a chaplet of 
iron, and a lance. By the 13th of Edward I., the statute 
of Winchester, the armour and weapons, directed to be kept 
by persons of different possessions, were allotted in similar 
proportions ; and after the feudal system had fallen into de- 
cay, the rental of land was taken as the criterion to regulate 
the distribution of military obligation. — See the 1st of Philip 
and Mary. 

26. — The Cardinal, with a su?nptuous train of ecclesi- 
astics, received him again at Dover. Sect. xxi. page 85-6. 

May 26, 1522. 

27. — They empowered him to pronounce the sentence of 
excommunication on the first that infringed the articles of the 
contract. Sect. xxii. page 87. 

Lord Herbert, 118. 

28. — It has been said, that, although Charles appeared to 
treat Wolsey with so much deference, cvc Sect. xxiv. page 88. 

Godwin's Annals. 

29. — He conferred the honour of knighthood on several nffi- 



NOTES. 281 

cers who had signalized themselves in that exploit. Sect. xxv. 
page 89. 
Holinshed, 874.. 

30. — Informed their respective provinces when and where 
to assemble. Sect, xxvii. page 90. 

Burnet. 

31. — The Cardinal obliged them to adjourn their meeting 
to Westminster Abbey. Sect, xxvii. page 90. 

8th May, 1523. 

32. — What was required for the public service ought not to 
be considered as subtracted from the wealth of the nation. 
Sect. xxix. page 93. 

There is an anecdote told of the king on this occasion. 
Hearing that the Commons were likely to object altogether 
to the grant, he sent for one of the members, Edward Mon- 
tagu, the ancestor of the dukes of that name, and, mater- 
nally, of the present Dukes of Marlborough and Buccleuch ; 
and, upon his kneeling, exclaimed, " Ho ! will they not suf- 
fer my bill to pass ?" and, laying his hand upon Montagu's 
head, added, ■' Get my bill passed to-morrow, or else to- 
morrow this head of yours shall be off." 

Sir Thomas More, on this occasion, when introduced as 
speaker, addressed the king to the following effect : — " I am 
both wanting in wit, learning, and discretion to speak before 
so great a prince. Phormio, your majesty must well know, 
desired Hannibal to attend his lectures, which he consented 
to ; but when Hannibal was come, Phormio began to treat 
of chivalry ; upon which he immediately called him a fool for 
presuming to teach him, who was master of the art of war. 
So, in like manner, if I should speak before your majesty of 
learning, and ordering of the commonwealth, your highness 
being so well warned, and of such prudence and experience, 
might justly say to me as the great Hannibal said to Phor- 
mio." 

I cannot understand how Sir Thomas More ever came to 



282 NOTES. 

be considered so highly among the worthies of England as 
he commonly is. He seems to have been a pleasant- tem- 
pered man ; but much of his agreeable qualities arose from 
an excessive disposition to flatter. During the time he was 
chancellor, he was as fully complaisant to the king's humours 
as any of his previous ministers. His literary works have no 
great merit. I never could muster patience enough to read 
his Utopia. I suspect that much of his celebrity has arisen 
from his life having been written by his son-in-law. 

33. — Instead of double that sum, which the minister had 
requested Sect. xxix. page 93. 

The grant was two shillings in the pound on the income 
from estates of the annual value of twenty pounds and up- 
wards ; one shilling on the income of estates of the annual 
rent of forty shillings, and not exceeding twenty pounds ; 
and a groat a head on every one upwards of sixteen years of 
age. It was, after the second visit of the Cardinal, agreed 
that estates of fifty pounds rental and upwards should pay 
three shillings in the pound. This sum, like the grant of 
the clergy, was payable in five years, but not annually. 

34-. — The minister sent his secretary to St PauVs to re- 
ceive the estimates of the citizens, ivithout oath. Sect. xxx. 
page 94. 

Hall. 

35. The crown of Denmark was not then hereditary. The 
inheritance was limited to one family, hut the son was not re- 
gularly the successor of the father. Sect. xxxi. page 94. 

This accounts for the circumstance of Hamlet, in Shak- 
spearc's tragedy, not succeeding to his father. His uncle 
must have been chosen successor in the lifetime of the 
father. 

36. — The prerogative of election was also limited ton 'v- 
tain nvJmber of persons, &c Sect. xxxi. page 94. 

The constitution of Sweden was anciently of the same de- 
scription as that of Denmark, and Christen had previously 



NOTES. 283 

forfeited his right to the crown of Sweden also. The his- 
tory of the revolutions in Sweden, ascribed to Vertot, com- 
mences by stating, that it continued an elective monarchy 
till about the middle of the fourteenth century. " For al- 
though/' says the author, " the children and nearest re- 
lations of the deceased monarch were usually advanced to 
the throne, the order of birth-right was sometimes neglected, 
and the succession was always determined by choice. By 
virtue of this right of election, the Swedes oftentimes claim- 
ed a power to depose their sovereigns, when they encroached 
upon the liberty and privileges of the nation. The royal 
authority was confined within very narrow limits ; for the 
king could neither make war nor peace, and much less raise 
money or soldiers, without the consent of the senate, or of 
the estates assembled." 

37. — The law extended over the inferior orders of the 
state in the Gothic nations. Sect. xxxi. page 94. 

See Pinkerton's Inquiry into the ancient History of Scot- 
land. The Goths thought the line of blood more regular 
by the mothers than the fathers. 

38- — He actually excluded his eldest sister s heirs from the 
right of succeeding. Sect, xxxiii. page 97. 

There is a singular pamphlet written by one Edward Da- 
vies, for the express purpose of proving that Henry VIII. 
was an example of a patriot king. The author does not at- 
tribute the conduct of the monarch to personal feelings, but 
to public principles ; and the truth certainly is, that the life 
of Henry VIII. requires still to be written. 

39. — He (Adrian) had not long done this u hen he fell 
sick and died. Sect, xxxiv. page 98. 

14th September, 1523. 

40. — The English and Imperial cabinets, aware of his 
disposition, incited him to the decisire sfc/i which he took at 
this time. Sect, xxxvi. page 99. 

Lord Herbert. 



NOTES TO BOOK FOURTH, 



1 • — The deluges were the blood of mankind, and the devas- 
tations proceeded from the sword. Sect. i. page 101. 

Many provident persons ascended to high places, and 
watched with anxious awe for the second flood. The abbot 
of St Bartholomew's, in Smithfield, built a house at Harrow 
on the Hill, for the retreat of himself and brethren. Among 
the many curious similarities between the administration of 
Pitt and Wolsey, future historians Will probably notice the 
predictions of Brothers the fanatic, and the circumstance of 
many people quitting London on the day which he fore- 
told it should be destroyed. 

2. — The Duke qf Suffolk ivas appointed to the command 
of an army sent to invade France, &c. Sect. ii. page 101. 

20th September, 1523. 

3. — Surrey, in giving an account of this aj/air to Wolsey, 
says, that seven times that night spirits and terrible sights 
ivere visible. Sect. iii. page 103. 

The expense of the operations in France and Scotland 
drained the cxcliequer, and the Cardinal was obliged to call 
for a premature advance of part of the subsidy which had 
been granted by the convocation and parliament. The sum 
which he thus required was called an anticipation. As tin- 
term had hitherto been unknown in the language, and the 



NOTES. 285 

war was unpopular, the people thought they paid too dear 
for learning it. 

4. — England agreed to contribute 100,000 crowns 
monthly, unless the king himself invaded France with his own 
troops in person. Sect. v. page 105. 

Lord Herbert. 

5. — His cruisers molested their vessel; and he had raiseed 
the price of English money in his dominions, by which the value 
of their commodities was depreciated. Sect. ix. page 109. 

Holinshed and Hall. 

6. The Imperial minuter, a man who scrupled not to ag- 
grandise the reputation of his abilities at the expense of 
others. Sect. x. page 110. 

This diplomatic rascal's name was De Praet. 

7. — The expense had already greatly exceeded the sums 
voted by the convocation and by parliament : in consequence, it 
was resolved to levy an extraordinary contribution. Sect. 
xvi. page 116. 

There seems reason to think, but I have not ascertained 
distinctly the fact, that this contribution had reference to 
the grant of the parliament and convocation, and was founded 
on them. For among Masters's MS. collection in the library 
of Jesus College, Oxford, I met with the following note : — 

<f 1525. The Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk write to the 
Cardinal that the Commons lay all the blame on him ; and 
that, if any insurrection follow, the quarrel shall be only 
against him. The Cardinal writes to the same, that it is 
the custom of the people, when any tiling miscontents them, 
to blame those that be near about the king ; and when they 
dare not use their tongues against their sovereign, they, for 
venting their malice, will not fail to give evil language against 
the council. •••••• jj seems this amicable grant was 

a modification of a greater grant, which the Commons first 
condescended to, and after got it part reduced." 

Henry VII. in the year 14-ftf), obtained a similar kind of 



286 NOTES. 

grant from parliament. " Which kind of levying money 
was first devised by King Edward IV. King Henry, fol- 
lowing the like example, published abroad, that by their 
open gifts he would measure and search their benevolent 
hearts and good minds towards him, so that he that gave 
most should be judged to be his most loving friend ; and he 
that gave little to be esteemed according to his gift. — Holin- 
shedyfol. 7 71. 

8. — " But, my lord" said this Jirm and intrepid citi- 
" zen, many of his laws are excellent." Sect. xvi. page 117. 

The English nation is indebted for its best laws to the 
frequent usurpations of those who attained the throne to the 
prejudice of the lineal heirs. The laws of William I. and 

II. regulate the descent, and define the rights of territorial 
property to this day. The basis of Magna Charta was laid 
in the concessions with which Henry I. conciliated the peo- 
ple to his usurpation of the rights of his elder brother. John, 
who murdered the heir to the crown, granted the Magna 
Charta. Henry IV., who deposed Richard II., endeavoured 
to reduce the exorbitant cormorants of the church. Richard 

III. abolished the prerogative of applying directly to the peo- 
ple for money. In Oliver Cromwell's time, the principles of 
the navigation laws were first established. The faction who 
accomplished the revolution of 1688, procured, by William 
and Mary, the establishment of Protestantism. And the 
bringing in of the Hanoverian family defined the privileges 
of the king more explicitly than they had ever been before. 
Nations are the better now and then for having an usur- 
per. 

9. — " If the king shall not happen to need it for the war, 
it may be returned to the contributors ," ike Sect. xvi. page 1 1 8. 

Lord Herbert, 162. 

10. — The Princess Mary, the bride />< frothed of the em- 
peror, teas consigned to his ministers, Cv'C Sect, xviit page 1 1 2 i- 

Holinshed. 



NOTES. 287 

11. — In their interview with Wolsey, they were, however, 
treated more according to the deserts of their government. 
Sect. xix. page 122. 

Holinshed, 387. 

12. — The regency of France further engaged, that the 
Duke of Albany should not return to Scotland daring the re- 
mainder of the minority of James V. Sect. xix. page 124. 

The circumstance of a bond being given to the Cardinal 
for so large a sum as a hundred thousand crowns has been 
held as a proof of his corruption ; but when the amount of 
the arrears of bis pension is considered, and the revenues 
which he derived from Spain, and which there was every 
probability, at that time, would be arrested, there will be 
no reason for this opinion. Besides this, it was the practice 
of the age, en the occasion of concluding treaties, to give 
large presents, and often benefices to the ministers, who 
were commonly ecclesiastics. Cardinal Campeggio got from 
Henry VII. the bishopric of Salisbury, and the king's agent 
at Rome, Cardinal Adrian, was bishop of Bath. 

13. — The treaty arranged was duly ratified by the king. 
Sect. xix. page 124. 

At Moor in Hertfordshire, 30th August, 1525. 

The terms in which the previous truce was proclaimed are 
singular, and perhaps without precedent. 

" For as much as the lady regent of France, mother unto 
the French king, by consent of the princes and peers of the 
seignorial, and others of the council of the same, hath on the 
behalf of the French king, and of the three estates of the 
realm of France, sent unto the king's highness honourable 
ambassadors, sufficiently authorised to sue, require, and la- 
bour for peace ; and the same, under honourable conditions 
and offers, to conclude with the king's highness, if it so shall 
stand with his gracious pleasure," &c. &c. — Ifarleian Col- 
lection, A T o 442, A r o 27, page 55, 15th August, 1525. 



288 NOTES. 

14. — The children, in silence, passed aci oss the deck to the 
boat ivhich their father had quitted. Sect. xxi. p. 125. 

Lord Herbert says, they kissed their father's hand. Page 
184. 

15. — Francis vaulted into the saddle, and exultingly ex- 
claimed, as he galloped away, " I am again a king." Sect. 
xxi. page 125. 

Holinshed says, that the exchange took place on the 18th 
of March, 1526; but the bonds and letters of thanks and 
gratitude to the king and cardinal of England were dated at 
Bayonne on the 17 th. 

16. Bourbon, to animate his men, seized a scaling-ladder, 
and, running forward, was shot, and fell dead on the earth. 
Sect, xxiii. page 128. 

There is some reason to think that Bourbon was shot by 
the celebrated artist Benvenuto Cellini ; who some days after 
wounded the Prince of Orange as he reconnoitred the castle 
of St Angelo. See Nugent's Translation of the Life of Ben- 
venuto Cellini, page 130, and also page 148. The incidents 
as described by Cellini are exceedingly interesting, and told 
with much of his characteristic vivacity and enthusiasm. 

17. — Nor was the Cardinal less eager to avenge what had 
happened, or to avert ivhat might ensue. Sect. xxiv. page 
130. 

The Cardinal ordered prayers to be said for the pope, and 
all people to fast four days in the week ; but few fasted, for 
the priests said their commands were to exhort the lay peo- 
ple, and not to fast themselves. But the lay people said the 
priests should fast first, for the very cause of the fasting was 
for a priest; few however of either fasted. — Hall. 

is. — During the chanting of the pathetic orison prepared 
for thy- occasion, &c. Sect. x\iv. page 132. 

" Sancta Maria, oral pro papa nostro Chmentc." — ('</- 
vendish* 



NOTES. 289 

19. — From Calais he went towards Amiens. Sect. xxv. 
page 133. 

It is not one of the least of the curious resemblances which 
the times of Cardinal Wolsey bear to those of Mr Pitt,, that 
the neighbourhood of Amiens should have been the scene of 
a treaty which had the effect of terminating a war in a period 
so similar to that of the French revolution. 

20. — The inhabitants entertained him with Latin orations 
and triumphal processions. Sect. xxv. page 133. 

Notwithstanding all this public pomp and deference, the 
Cardinal, in private, suffered several little morifications. In 
every place where he lodged he was robbed of something 
valuable ; and he met with a hieroglyphical admonition to 
humility, by a representation, one morning on his window, 
of a cardinal's hat with a gallows over it. — Stow. 

21. — By the time he was again mounted, the king, with his 
guards, had come very near. Sect. xxv. page 134. 

The guard of Scots that attended the French king on this 
occasion were more comely than all the others. — Cavendish. 

22. — They accordingly stripped the pope of all he pos- 
sessed in the castle. Sect, xxviii. page 137. 

The money which, at this time, Clement was obliged to 
borrow, in order to satisfy the extortions of the officers, oc- 
casioned the first institution of public funds. It was bor- 
rowed at ten per cent, interest. To pay the interest, and to 
liquidate the principal, the loughi di monte were formed, 
which, under Sextus V., was reduced into a complete sys- 
tem. 

The pope had in his disposal a number of special employ- 
ments, which were extremely profitable to the occupiers. 
They were all during life. Scxtus V. ordained, that as the 
occupiers dropped off, their employment should, for the fu- 
ture, be sold at certain fixed prices ; and he formed a table, 
or tariff, which was never to be exceeded. The prices were 
so moderate as to leave a very considerable profit to the pur- 

T 



290 NOTES. 

chasers. These offices were called vacabili, because they were 
vacable or transferable from any occupier under sixty years 
of age to another, though of inferior age. The sums received 
from the sales of these vacabili formed a sinking fund for 
the extinction of the public debt. 

23. — Turned him into the streets, us the best way of exe- 
cuting the emperor's instructions. Sect, xxviii. page 137. 

The pope probably did not give up quite so much as I 
have been led to think from Guicciardini ; at least Benvenu- 
to Cellini mentions an anecdote that affords some ground for 
believing that he deceived the Imperial officers : — u I must 
inform the reader/' says Benvenuto, " how Pope Clement, 
in order to preserve his regalia, together with all the jewels 
of the apostolic chamber, sent for me, and shut himself up 
with the master of the horse and me in an apartment. They 
placed before me the regalia, with all the vast quantity of 
jewels belonging to the apostolical chamber ; and his holi- 
ness ordered me to take off the gold in which they were set. 
I did as I was directed, and, wrapping up each of them in a 
little piece of paper, we secured them in the skirts of the 
pope's clothes and those of the master of the horse."— Life 
of Benvenuto, page 146. 

24. — " Because your imperial majesty will not agree to 
equitable terms of peace ; nor pay your debts to the King of 
England" <£e. Sect. xxix. page 138. 

Charles having married the princess of Portugal, forfeited 
to Henry, by not marrying his daughter, five hundred thou- 
sand crowns, according to the stipulations of the treaty of 
Windsor. 

25. — As for the sons of your king, it is not my fault that 
they arc not fee ; I hold them in pawn, and he should ;r- 
dcem them. Sect. xxix. page 139. 

The mean and sordid spirit of Charles and the Spanish 
government was fully shown in the treatment which the 
helpless children of Francis received. They were consigned 



NOTES. 291 

to the custody of a stupid superstitious wretch, a marquis of 
the name of Virlanga, and imprisoned in the castle of Pe- 
dracu. A French officer, who was sent to visit them, found 
them in a dark dirty room, playing with dogs and dolls, and 
neglected in their persons. They had forgotten all their 
native language, and he was obliged to make use of an inter- 
preter. How different was this from the entertainment 
which James I. of Scotland received while a prisoner in 
England ! The officer presented them with new clothes, 
which the marquis would not allow to be put on, until first 
tried upon the bodies of other boys ; for he believed that 
there were witches in France, who could transport, through 
the air, any one, whose bodies were touched by their oint- 
ments. Lord Herbert, in speaking of this circumstance, en- 
deavours, in words without meaning, to give another reason 
for the conduct of Virlanga ; but the notion was not peculiar 
to that despicable Spaniard, — it was common to the age. 

Bodin, according to Reginald Scot,* tells a tale of a noble- 
man of Lyons, who, being in bed with his mistress, she rose 
in the night, and, lighting a candle, took a box of ointment, 
with which she anointed her fair body, and, after a few 
words spoken, she evanished. The gentleman seeing this, 
leapt out of bed, and, taking the candle in his hand, searched 
for the damsel; and not finding her, took also the ointment 
and anointed himself, and was suddenly transported to Lor- 
rain, into the midst of an assembly of witches. 

There were two kinds of this ointment : the ingredients 
of the one were fat of young children, seethed with baptis- 
mal water, in a brazen vessel, to which were added eleose- 
linum, aconitum, frondes populeiu, and soot ; and of the 
other, sium, acarum vulgare, pentaphyllon, the blood of a 
bat, solanum somniferum, and oleum, mixed up together. 



Discovery of Witchcraft, cd. 15fi4. 



292 NOTES. 

" Witches," says Scot, " are women which he commonly 
old, lame, blear-eyed, pale, foul, and full of wrinkles ; poor, 
sullen, superstitious, and papists ; or such as know no 
religion, in whose drousie minds the devil hath gotten a fine 
seat. They are lean and deformed, showing melancholy in 
their faces, to the horror of all that see them. They are dot- 
ing, scolds, mad, devilish, and not much differing from them 
that are thought to be possessed of spirits."* 

The ancient Scottish practice of accusing a witch was 
highly commended. " A hollow piece of wood or chest," 
says Bodin, " is placed in the church, into which any body 
may freely cast a little scroll of paper inscribed with the 
witch's name, with the time, place, and fact of the witchcraft. 
The keys of the box were lodged with the ecclesiastical in- 
quisitors."t A witch engaged, on being taught by the devil 
the secrets of the craft, not to observe certain ceremonies of 
the church, to conceal faults at confession, and fastings on 
Sundays. The reader will here remark, that the acts of 
witchcraft were injurious to the priesthood. Burns, the 
poet, in his incomparable poem of Tarn o' Shanter, has ad- 
mirably described the revels of witches at an initiation. Re- 
ginald Scot mentions, that they were said in his time " to 
meet the devil at an appointed place, where they fell a danc- 
ing and singing of baudie songs, wherein the devil leadeth 
the dance himself; which dance and other conferences being 
ended, he supplieth their wants of powders and roots to in- 
toxicate withall, and giveth to every novice a mark either 
with his teeth or with his claws, and so they kiss the devil's 
bare buttocks and depart."^ Bodin mentions, that at these 
magical assemblies the witches sing, " Har, bar, devil, devil, 
dance here, play here, sabbath, sabbath ; and while they 
sing and dance, every one hath a broom in her hand, and 



Reginald Scot, p. 7. t IMA p. 42. J Ibid. p. 43. 



NOTES. 293 

holdeth it up aloft." Their dance was called La Volta, and 
was brought originally out of Italy into France. 

When the Inquisition was instituted in the twelfth cen- 
tury by Pope Dominick III., the crime of witchcraft, as it 
came afterwards to be considered, was not then known. 
The Inquisition was formed to detect heretical opinions and 
secret abominations ; and it was in consequence of consider- 
ing all who were obnoxious to its authority as persons of the 
same description, that the strange stories of the practices of 
witches arose in the world. 

The origin of the opinion of compacts with the devil is 
long posterior to the institution of the Inquisition. It was 
first broached by a young fellow who had been condemned 
by the inquisitors either for carnal or spiritual reprobation, 
in the hope of thereby saving himself, and of getting rid of 
his wife.* Strange as it may now seem, there are no ac- 
counts of witches, in the sense in which we understand the 
term, before the year 1400, about the time in which John 
Huss, who had embraced the opinions of Wickliffe, began to 
preach in -Germany. There are innumerable stories of 
ghosts, apparitions, black, white, and grey ; devils of all co- 
lours and qualities, forms and dimensions ; magicians, sorcer- 
ers, wizards, and every other kind and sort of superstitious 
agent ; but prior to the epoch alluded to, I have not been able 
to find that there is any account of those social ministers of 
mischief, which afterwards became so famous by the name 
of witches. Sociablcness is the peculiarity which distin- 
guishes witches from all other traffickers in the mysteries 
of futurity : none other were wont to hold meetings in 
churches and other lonely places. 

Cardanus, in speaking of the horrible assemblies which P. 
Scllus describes, of the " magical heretickt," the Eutychians, 



" Reginald Scot, p, 1.' 



294 NOTES. 

says, " they had originated in the orgies of Bacchus ; which, 
having been prohibited, were held secretly :" but they had 
no pretensions to weird influence. 

We suspect not the viciousness and presumption of man, 
till we attempt to trace the antiquity, and to ascertain the 
extent of human folly. Many of those who were prosecut- 
ed and punished for having entered into compacts with the 
devil, and whose secret meetings were held in desolate 
churches and unfrequented haunts, were the early and sin- 
cere, but timid, worshippers of truth. — Such is the malig- 
nant efficacy of using terms of reproach, — such is the effect 
of calling those who hold opinions different from ours by 
such dreadful names as witches and heretics, whigs and 
tories, jacobins and methodists ; for they all, when consider- 
ed with their respective circumstances, but imply opponents 
to the ruling power. 

The celebrated Johannes Weirius, sanctioned by the au- 
thority of Andreas Massius, one of the most famous Hebrew 
scholars that ever lived, has shown, that the term which has 
been translated witch in the English version of the Bible is 
derived from a word that means, literally, poisoner ; and is 
figuratively applied to idolatry, sedition, and other delusive 
practices."* It has been translated into Latin veneficium. 
The term was applied in a figurative sense originally to those 
who were afterwards stigmatized by the name of heretics, 
when they openly opposed the papal doctrines. As magician 



* The following is a note of all the places in the Bible where 
the terms witch and witchcraft are used : — Micah, 5 cap. 12 ; 
Nahum, 3 cap. 4 ; Isaiah, 47 cap. 9 & 12 ; 2 Kings, cap. 22 ; 
Jeremiah, 27 cap. ; Deuteronomy, 18 cap. 10 ; IMalaclii. 9 cap. 

5 ; Exodus, 7 cap. 2 ; Daniel, 2 cap. 2 ; 2 Chronicles, 33 cap. 

6 ; ] Samuel, 1 cap. 23 ; and Exodus, 23 cap. 23. — The law 
rendered, " Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," should be, 
11 Thou shalt not sutler a poisoner to live." 



NOTES. 295 

primitively signified a wise man, so witch properly signified 
a skilful woman, and was applied to simplers and midwives ; 
but having become reproachful, by the pretensions of quacks 
in these professions, it stood, in the public usage, about the 
beginning of the fifteenth century, as equivalent to poisoner ; 
while it also implied the magical skill and foreknowledge 
which simplers and midwives were then supposed to possess. 
In translating, therefore, from the briefs and decretals of 
the clergy, against those who cherished the opinions of 
Wickliffe, witchcraft came to be used for what signified only 
heresy. Hence the origin of confounding the secret meet- 
ings of the reformists with the rites of wizards and the orgies 
of the Eutychians. After the Reformation, the laws, which 
had been chiefly enacted against the secret followers of Wick- 
liffe, as creatures of the most detestable kind, came to be en- 
forced against those miserable human beings whom Reginald 
Scot has described and vindicated. I cannot conclude this 
note without quoting a speech of the celebrated judge, Sir 
Matthew Hale, on charging the jury at the trial of several 
witches who were condemned at Bury St Edmunds, on the 
10th March, 1664. I quote from a report of the trial before 
me : — " That there were such creatures as witches he made 
no doubt of at all : for, first, the scriptures had affirmed so 
much ; secondly, the wisdom of all nations had provided 
laws against such persons, which is an argument of their 
confidence of such a crime ; and such hath been the judg- 
ment of this kingdom, as appears by that act of parliament 
which hath provided punishments proportionable to the qua- 
lity of the offence." The unhappy victims of superstition 
were condemned and executed on Monday the 17th of 
March, " but they confessed nothing." So much for the 
state of the wisdom of our ancestors eighty years after the 
publication of Reginald Scot's curious and benevolent book. 

26. Slaying irith the sit or/1 religious pertOflS of "1/ <lrs<ri])- 



296 NOTES. 

lions, till the air and the earth have been infected. Sect. xxix. 
page 140. 

At this time a pestilence raged in most parts of Europe. 

27. The walls of his chambers were hung with cloth of gold t 
and tapestry still more precious, representing the most re- 
markable events in sacred history. Sect. xxx. page 142. 

The subjects of the tapestry consisted of triumphs, pro- 
bably Roman ; the .story of Absalom, bordered with the Car- 
dinal's arms; the petition of Esther, and the honouring of 
Mordecai; the history of Sampson, bordered with the Car- 
dinal's arms; the history of Solomon ; the story of Susan- 
nah and the elders, bordered with the Cardinal's arms ; the 
history of Jacob, also bordered; Holofernes and Judith^ 
bordered ; the story of Joseph, of David, and of St John the 
Baptist ; the history of the Virgin ; the passion of Christ '> 
the Worthies ; the story of Nebuchadnezzar ; a pilgrimage ; — 
all bordered. His chapel had three organs, and was orna- 
mented with statues of St John, the Virgin, the Mother and 
child, St Matthew, St Anthony, St Barbara, and pictures 
made of inlaid wood and ivory. Some of these latter kinds 
of pictures were, in that age, made in a very superior style. 
A catalogue of part of his furniture is in the British Museum. 

Dr Barnes, one of the martyrs of the Reformation, raised 
his voice against the inordinate pomp of the Cardinal, in a 
sermon which he preached at Cambridge ; for which he was 
summoned before him. u What, master doctor," said Wol- 
sey, " had you not sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach 
the people, but that my golden shoes, my poll-axes, my pil- 
lars, my golden cushions, my cross, did so offend you, that 
you must make us ridiculum caput amongst the people ? 
We were jolily that day laughed to scorne. Verily it was 
a sermon more fitter to be preached on a stage, * than in a 



• What could the Cardinal mean by this ? Were stagei in his 

day common ? What kind of stages could he allude to ? The 



NOTES. 297 

pulpit ; for at the last you said I wear a pair of reclde gloves, 
I should say bloudy gloves (quoth you), that I should not 
be cold in the midst of ray ceremonies." Barnes answered : 
(( I spake nothing but the truth out of the Scriptures, ac- 
cording to my conscience." " Then," said the Cardinal, 
" how think you, were it better for me, being in the honour 
and dignity I am, to coyne my pyllers and poll-axes, and to 
give the money to five or six beggars, than for to mayntaine 
the common wealth by them, as I do?" — Wordsworth's Ec- 
clesiastical Biography, vol. i. page 356. 

28. The sons of the nobility, according to the fashion of the 
age, tended him as pages. Sect. xxx. page 142. 

" He had also always nine or ten lords, who had each 
two or three (servants) to wait on them, except the Earl of 
Derby, who had five." — Cavendish. 

Hume speaks of the young nobility wearing the Cardinal's 
livery, as if such a thing had not happened before, and was 
peculiar to his household. " Some of the nobility," says the 
philosophical historian, " put their children into his family, 
as a place of education ; and, in order to ingratiate them with 
their patron, allowed them to bear offices as his servants." 
It was, however, the practice of the time, and of some anti- 
quity. ' ' A custom which had been introduced in former ages, 
seems in this (Henry VIII.) to have been carried almost be- 
yond credibility : it was that of retaining in the houses of 
the nobility the sons of their superior dependants, where 
their educations were completed, who, with a numerous re- 
tinue of servants, were all known by the badges of their 
lord.'' DaHawOjf* Inquiries into the Origin and Progress of 
Heraldry in England, jxige 186. Whiting, Abbot of Glas- 
tonbury, who was contemporary with Wolsey, retained 



Princess Mary acted in one of Terence's comedies, at an entertain- 
ment which the king gave the French commissioners after the ban- 
quet of Hampton Court. 



298 NOTES. 

young noblemen. And Gavin Douglas, the celebrated Bishop 
of Dunkeld, who was also a contemporary of Wolsey, men- 
tions that he learnt the dialect which he makes use of in his 
poetry when he was a page. Ellis's Early English Poets, 
vol i. page 397, And Douglas was a son of old Bell-the- 
Cat, Earl of Angus, a man who was not likely to have al- 
lowed his sons to serve as pages, had not the custom been 
common. The practice, in fact, continued till the reign of 
Charles I. Dr Fiddes mentions that, in his time, the then 
Earl of Stafford had a letter of instructions written by the 
Earl of Arundel, in the year 1620, for the benefit of his son 
William, then in the house of the Bishop of Norwich, in 
which he says, (t You shall, in all things, reverence, honour, 
and obey my Lord Bishop of Norwich, as you would do your 
parents, esteeming what he shall tell or command you, as if 
your grandmother of Arundel, your mother, or myself, 
should say it ; and, in all things, esteem yourself as my 
lord's page, — a breeding which youths of my house, far su- 
perior to you, were accustomed to, as my grandfather of 
Norfolk, and his brother, my good uncle of Northampton, 
were both bred as pages with bishops." 

29. — The dessert, which consisted of figures, castles, and 
cathedrals, in confectionary. Sect. xxxi. page 143. 

See Appendix to Dallaway's Inquiries into the Origin and 
Progress of Heraldry in England. 



NOTES TO BOOK FIFTH. 



1. — The delight which the nation has always received 
from wonderful tales has drawn upon Irishmen the imputa- 
Hon of being credulous. Sect. ii. page 146. 

In the sixteenth century a remarkable class of adventurers, 
called Carrows, who followed no other profession but cards, 
was entertained among them. These carrows, being com- 
monly well-born, but without patrimony, gleaned a liveli- 
hood by passing, in quest of play, from house to house among 
the gentry. To such an infatuated degree were they devoted 
to this thriftless commerce, that they have sometimes pledg- 
ed their clothes ; and, when stripped to the skin, have lain 
by the highways trussed in leaves and straw, inviting the 
passengers to a game on the green, at which, having nothing 
else to stake, they put to hazard the glibbs on their fore- 
heads, their nails, and even their limbs and members, to be 
lost or redeemed at the courtesy of the winner. — Campion. 

2. — The successful candidate was placed on a stone con- 
secrated by the use of ages for that purpose. Sect. iii. 
page 140. 

The ancient practice of crowning the Scottish kings on 
the black stone of Scoone was derived, no doubt, from a si- 
milar practice. The black stone of Scoone was carried from 
Scotland by Edward I. It stands in Westminster Abbey, 
and is placed under the coronation chair of the British king*. 



300 NOTES. 

There is a prophecy concerning this stone, which says, that 
wherever it is carried the Scots shall bear sway. 

3. — The abolition of opinions, which have become habi- 
tual. Sect. iv. page 149. 

In the recent discussions relative to the judicature of Scot- 
land, the consequences of the j udges being obliged to deliver 
their opinions on the bench was not sufficiently considered : 
nor does it seem to have been the thought that it necessarily 
rendered them personally interested in every trial before 
them. "Where a man delivers an opinion professionally, if it 
happen that another differ from him, he cannot avoid giv- 
ing the reasons upon which he formed his opinion ; and to 
maintain the correctness of his reasons is essential to his 
character. It is thus with the Scotch judge; and perhaps 
not only the delays, but the errors of decision, in the Court 
of Session, may be attributed to the public deliberations of 
the judges. Indeed, otherwise, it is not easy to conceive how 
fifteen men, of the best education of the kingdom, and, com- 
monly, of more than ordinary talents, should not have been 
able to afford so much satisfaction, nor to decide so correctly, 
as the common run of juries. The Scotch senate of justice, 
in its very nature, is equivalent to a jury ; and the only dif- 
ference between "it and the twelve good men and true of 
England is, that the former acts individually, and the other 
collectively. Oblige the Scotch judges to deliver their deci- 
sions as a body, and the utility of a jury may be fairly ques- 
tioned in the administration of the Scottish law. 

4. — Were deemed incapable of enjoying the beneficence 
of Jurisprudence. Sect. iv. page 150. 

Sir John Davies, in the year 1612, published a curious 
tract on this subject. It is worthy of being reprinted at the 
expense of the Irish nation. 

5. — It was deemed necessary to send cortimissioners. 
Sect. vii. page 153. 

Sir Anthony Fitzherbcrt, one of the justices of the Com- 



NOTES. 301 

mon Pleas ; Ralph Egerton ; Dr Denton, Dean of Litchfield, 
— Holinshed, 883. 

6. — Acrimony of the Cardinal's taunts, which they were 
themselves often obliged to endure. Sect. viii. page 156. 

Skelton, who was the Peter Pindar of his day, gives the 
following ludicrous description of the Cardinal, in a satire 
for which he prudently took refuge in the sanctuary of West- 
minster Abbey: 

u Our barons are so bold, 

Into a mouse hold the wold 

Run away and creep ; 

Like as many of sheep, 

Dare not look out a dur, 

For dread of the mastiff cur ; 

For dread of the butcher's dog, 

Would worry them like a hog. 

For if this cur do gnar, \ 

They must all stand afar, V 

To hold up their hand at the bar. J 

For all their noble blood 

He plucks them by the hood, 

And shakes them by the ear, \ 

And brings them in such fear, v 

He baiteth them like a bear, ) 

Like an ox or a bull. 

Their wits he saitli are dull : 

He saith they have no brain 

Their estate to maintain ; 

And makes to bow the knee 

Before his majesty. 

Judge of the king's laws, 

He counts them fools and daws ; 

Sergeants of the coif eke, 

He sayeth they arc to seek, 



302 NOTES. 

In pleading of their case 

At the Common Pleas, 

Or at the King's Bench, 

He wringeth them such a wrench, 

That all our learned men 

Dare not set their pen 

To plead a true trial 

Within Westminster-hall. 

In the Chancery where he sits, 

But such as he admits, 

None so hardy are to speak. 

He saith, ' Thou huddy peak, 
Thy learning is too lewd, 
Thy tongue is not well thew'd 
To seek before your grace, 
And only in this place.' 
He rages and he raves, 
And calls them canker'd knaves. 
Thus royally he doth deal, 
Under the king's broad seal. 
And in the chequer he them checks, 
In Star Chamber he nods and becks, 
And beneath him their so stout, 
That no man of them dare rout, 
Duke, earl, baron, nor lord, 
But to his sentence must accord; 
Whether he be knight or squire, 
All must follow his desire." 
7. — The earl, being afteinvards pwdoned, returned home. 
Sect. viii. page 160. 

There is a story told of Kildare, but it seems so imper- 
fectly authenticated that I have omitted it in the text. It is 
reported that he was found guilty of treason, and, being in 
the Tower a prisoner, was one evening amusing himself at 



NOTES. 303 

some game of pastime with the lieutenant, when a mandate 
came from the Cardinal for his execution. The earl, sus- 
pecting some foul play, persuaded the lieutenant, who, by- 
right of office, had access to the king at all times, to go and 
ascertain whether his majesty was privy to the warrant. 
The king, who admired the character of Kildare, is said to 
have been greatly astonished at the presumption of the Car- 
dinal, and to have forbade the execution. But the story is 
altogether exceedingly confused, and there is no trace of Kil- 
dare having been at all tried. Besides, the warrant could not 
have been issued without the sign manual ; and the Cardi- 
nal was not charged in his impeachment with ever having 
attempted to exercise an authority so illegal as to send forth 
a warrant for execution without having obtained the king's 
consent and signature. 

8. — It was only opinions and principles, surreptitiously con- 
cealed under the Christian name, that reaUy guided the policy 
of rulers and the conduct of men. Sect. ix. page 161. 

See Middleton's Letter from Rome. There is a curious 
history connected with this celebrated performance. In the 
year 1667, a book was printed, in French, at Leyden, which 
had been translated into English, under the title of " The 
Conformity between Modern and Antient Ceremonies.'' 
The translator says the original is so scarce, that, though 
conversant in large well- furnished libraries, he never met 
with but two copies ; and he therefore conceived, that the 
impression may have been bought up by the Roman priest- 
hood, — a mode of assassinating truth which they often prac- 
tised. However, it would appear that certainly more than 
two copies did exist in this country ; for the motive which 
led him to make the translation arose out of the great popu- 
larity of the letter from Rome by Conyers Middleton. That 
learned doctor of divinity, in his preface to his work, says, 
u Many writers, I know, have treated the same subject be- 
fore me; some of which I have never seen, but those I have 



304 NOTES. 

looked into, handle it in a manner so differently from what 
I have pursued, that I am under no apprehension of being 
thought a plagiary, or to have undertaken a province already 
occupied." But, upon comparing his performance with the 
translation alluded to, there certainly never was a more clear 
case of plagiarism ; for there is nothing at all important in 
the doctor's letter which is not taken from the other book, al- 
though there are many .things in the other book which are not 
in the doctor's letter. He has, in fact, being a sort of a clas- 
sical man, confined himself to the pilfering of the quotations 
and allusions to the classics. I should not have noticed this 
literary fraud, but for a slander which Middleton has pro- 
pagated against the Cardinal. He says, in his dedication to 
the Bishop of Norwich, after speaking of the effects which 
the freedom of printing had in dissolving the influence of 
the papal spells and superstition, " In the very infancy of 
printing amongst us, Cardinal Wolsey foresaw this effect of 
it, and, in a speech to the clergy, publicly forewarned them, 
that if they did not destroy the press, the press would de- 
stroy them." Now, this not only shows the most complete 
ignorance of the history of Wolsey, but also of the origin of 
the church of England, of which the author was a member, 
but is as false in statement as some other passages from his 
pen. The truth is, that what Middleton ascribes to the 
Cardinal was said by the Vicar of Croydon, in Surrey, in a 
sermon which he preached at Paul's Cross, about the time 
that the New Testament was translated. " We must," said 
the vicar, " root out printing, or printing will root out us." 
See Fox's Acts and Monuments, vol. i. page 927. See also 
Leivis's History of the Translations of the Bible, Svo. edit, 
page 71. — It is curious to trace the regular descent of scan- 
dal, when it is once sanctioned by an authority. I remem- 
ber, in reading a book of travels (I think Barrow's in China), 
of meeting with a repetition of the aspersion, which Middle- 
ton, in his ignorance, has thrown out on Wolsev- 

3 






NOTES. 305 

9. — The tranquillity which ensued was called the truee 
of God. Sect. x. page 16i. 

Favyn's Theatre of Honour. 

10. — The first general result of the Reformation was 
the transfer of the political power possessed by churchmen into 
the hands of the hereditary class. Sect. xiii. page 168. 

The effect which the progress of society in this country 
has had in the choice of ministers of state, would afford a 
curious subject of investigation. In the mde and early 
times, when war was the business of the people and the 
study of the rulers, the ministers were men who had proved 
their capacity in the field of battle. After the different king- 
doms of the heptarchy were consolidated under one crown, 
and when the clergy had obtained access to the secrets of 
men's minds and a separate establishment, the ministers 
were generally ecclesiastics. On the abrogation of the papal 
authority, the nobility succeeded to the power and emolu- 
ment of state administration ; but they in turn seem also 
destined to make way for the lawyers. The military rulers 
disciplined the people into order and subordination ; the 
clergy reduced into a system (keeping in view the advance- 
ment of their own class) those maxims and regulations by 
which the military preserved submission and obedience ; and 
the nobility, less numerous than the clergy, and more in- 
terested in the concerns of the people, have improved and 
extended, though still with reservations to their own advan- 
tage, the laws and usages which their ecclesiastical predeces- 
sors introduced. 

11. — /;/ all protectant nations, the lawyers hare super- 
seded the clergy in the administration qf political justice and 
the rules of life, in irhich the substance of all human power 
really consists. Sect. xiii. page 168- 

I am not qualified to speak on the special privileges of 
lawyers; but I believe, that in England they are not liable 
to arrest for debts ; that in open court they may deliver the 

u 



306 NOTES. 

most libellous slanders, without being liable to prosecution ; 
and that it is absolutely necessary to employ them in many 
of the most essential circumstances of life. The exclusive 
privileges and immunities of the lawyers is a curious and 
interesting topic. They seem, all things considered, to have 
been of pretty rapid growth since the abolition of the poli- 
tico-clerical influence. 

12. Erasmus, with his accustomed sycophancy towards the 
prosperous great, describes the Cardinal's table, <^c. Sect. xiv. 
page 168. 

Sir Thomas More gives a caricatured description of the 
Cardinal at his table. " It happened one day, that he had, 
in a great audience, made an oration, wherein he liked him- 
self so well, that at his dinner he sat on thorns till he might 
hear how they that sat with him might commend it. And 
when he had sat musing a while, devising, as I thought, 
upon some pretty proper way to begin, at last, for the lack 
of a better, he brought it even bluntly forth, and asked us 
all how well we liked the oration. But when the problem 
was once proposed, till it was full answered, no man, I ween, 
ate one morsel more ; — every man fell into so deep a study 
for the finding of some exquisite praise ; for he that should 
have brought out but a vulgar and a common commendation, 
would have thought himself shamed for ever. Then said 
we our sentences by row as we sat, from the lowest unto the 
highest, in good order, as it had been a great matter of the 
common weal, in a right solemn council. He that sat high- 
est, and was to speak, was a great beneficed man, and not a 
doctor only, but also somewhat learned indeed in the laws 
of the church. A wonder it was to see how he marked 
every man's word that spake before him ; and it seemed, 
that every word, the more proper it was, the worse he liked 
it, for the cumberancc he had to study out a better to pass 
it. The man even swet with labour, so that he was fain in 
the while to wipe bis face." — Sir Thomas, although he speaks 



NOTES. 307 

of the personage so bepraised as a great man of Germany, 
evidently meant Wolsey. The caricature is, however, more 
disgraceful to the guests than to the patron. 

13. — The chronological compilations of that period arc 
still the great quarries of English history. Sect. xv. page 1 70. 

I have never been able to bring myself to entertain any 
feeling approximating to respect for the works of Chaucer, 
Gower, and Lydgate, and the other tribe of rhymers that 
preceded the reign of Henry VIII. They seem to me to 
have acquired their fame before the nation knew any thing 
of poetry, and to have remained famous when their works 
are no longer read. There is a little sprinkling here and 
there of naivete in Chaucer, but his lists and catalogues of 
circumstances are any thing but poetry. Lydgate is bare 
naked prose. The honest man speaketh indeed very truly 
of himself: — 

" I not acquainted with muses of Maro, 
Nor with metres of Lucan or Virgil, 
Nor sugared ditties of Tullius Cicero, 
Nor of Homerus to follow the fresh style, 
Crooked to climb over so high a style, 
Or for to follow the steps aureate 
Of Francis Petrak, the poet lauriate." 

Lydgate s St Albans. 

In the course of my researches among the deservedly- 
neglected works of the ancient authors, preserved as curiosi- 
ties in the British Museum, I full in with one piece which 
drew my attention more particularly ; not, however, on ac- 
count of any beauty that it possesses, but as one of the ear- 
liest allegorical poems in the English language. It is called 
" The Castle of Labour," and is written with the same mo- 
ral purpose as the Magical Castle of Indolence by Thomson. 
I selected those passages that appeared to me the best. The 



308 NOTES. 

reader will be amused to observe a remote resemblance in the 
opening to the commencement of Thomson's masterpiece: 

" Ye mortal people that desire to obtain 
Eternal bliss by your labour diligent, 
With mortal riches subdue your pain, 
To read this treatise to the right intent, 
Which shall show you, plain and evident, 
That Idleness, mother of all adversity, 
Her subjects bringeth to extreme poverty." 

The poet feigns himself to be newly married; and, while 
in bed along with his wife, ruminating on his future pros- 
pects, hath divers visions. Heaviness, alias Dulness, is to- 
lerably well described : — 

<{ Him to behold I was dismayed, 
How he of things past did clatter. 
' Many take to me,' he said ; 
He had well learned for to patter ! 
Of things to come fast did he chatter." 

DESrAIR. 

" Came to me, Despair, in cruel ordinance, 
One of the worst of all the sort, 
She was chief captain of their dance, 
And daughter unto Discomfort. 

This Despair did me so assail 
That lost was my discretion, 
My face began for to wax pale 
By fear of her cruel vexation. 

So cruel was her perturbation, 
Which on me she did extend, 



NOTES. 309 

That I thought, in conclusion, 
Of myself to make an end. 

I was ready to run here and there. 
To climb up high, and then to fall, 
By my life I set not one hair, 
By means of this fury infernal." 

reason. 
" As I was in this perturbation, 
I saw a lady pleasant and bright, 
For to behold her meek fashion 
Soothly it was a pleasant sight. 

Her caperon with pearl was pight, 
With precious stones about illumining; 
Her beautiful face shone as bright 
As Phcebus doth in a May morning." 

Reason tells him, after some wholesome counselling, and 
when he shall have subdued Pride — 

" After that Pride is from thee chased 

By the might of Humility, 

With another thou shalt be menaced 

More dangerous, called Envy, 

Accompanied with Misery, 

With Falsehood, Murder, and Treason, 

Such shall be in his company, 

With Slander and false Detraction." 

liNVY. 

" 111 report hath he in his parish, 
With many vices and divers, 
Which unto virtue are reproach, 
Hym ahvay tending to reverse." 



310 NOTES. 

CHAUITY. 

" Charity hath waiting on her dignity 
Very true Love and Misericord, 
Benevolence, with Grace and Verity ; 
Among them found is not Discord, 
But Peace, Meekness, and Concord." 



" Cruelty beareth his hanger, 
Felony is his chief champion, 
Perversity is his porter, 
Madness reigns in his dungeon, 
Cursed Murder, that false felon 
Of his house, is as chief captain : 
There is a cursed Religion 
To him that followeth their train." 

I)r William Bulleyn, who lived during the administration 
of Wolsey, gives the following allegorical critique on the an- 
cient English poets : — 

" Witty Chaucer, who sat in chair of gold, covered with 
roses, writing prose and rhyme, accompanied with the spi- 
rits of many kings, knights, and fair ladies, whom he plea- 
santly besprinkled with the sweet water of the well conse- 
crated to the muses, named Aganippe. Near also sat old 
moral Gower, with pleasant pen in hand, commending ho- 
nest love without lust, and pleasure without pride ; holiness 
in the clergy without hypocrisy ; — no tyranny in rulers, — 
no falsehood in lawyers, — no busary in merchants, — no re- 
bellion in the commons, — and unity among kingdoms, &C. 
There appeared also, lamenting Lydgate, lurking among the 
lilies, with his bald sconce, and a garland of willows about 
it. Booted he was after St Burnet's guise; and a black 
stemmel robe, with a monstrous hood, hanging backward ; 
his body stooping forward, bewailing every state with the 
spirit of providence ; foreseeing the falls of wicked men, and 



NOTES. 



311 



the slippery seats of princes ; the ebbing and flowing, the 
rising and falling of men in authority ; how virtue advances 
the simple, and vice overthrows the most noble of the world. 
Skelton sat in the corner, with a frosty-bitten face, frown- 
ing, and scarcely yet cooled of the hot-burning choler kindled 
against the cankered Cardinal Wolsey, writing many a sharp 
disticon with bloody pen against him, which he sent through 
the infernal Styx, Phlegeton, and Acheron, by the ferryman 
of hell, called Charon, to the said Cardinal. Then Barclay, 
in a hooping russet long coat, with a pretty hood in his neck, 
and fine knots upon his girdle, after Francis's tricks. He 
was born beyond the cold river Tweed ; he lodged upon a 
sweet bed of camomile, under the cinamon tree, about him 
many shepherds and sheep, with pleasant pipes, greatly ab- 
horring the life of courtiers." 

Dr Berkenhout very flatly contradicts Sir George Mac- 
kenzie for placing Barclay among Scottish authors ; but Bul- 
leyn, who was contemporary with him, very clearly, in the 
preceding passage, mentions the fact ; and there are internal 
evidences in the author's works besides, which render the 
point indisputable. 

14. Warton, in speaking of the state of poetry in the reign 
of Henry VIII., observes, §c. Sect. xvii. page 173. 

" The marriage of a princess of England with a king of 
Scotland, from the new communication and intercourse 
opened between the two courts and kingdoms by such a con- 
nexion, must have greatly contributed to polish the rude 
manners, and to improve the language, literature, and arts, 
of Scotland." — History of English Poetry. 

1.3. — If diplomatic corresjxmdencc and the occasional vi- 
sits of courtiers have any effect on the progress of nations, the 
English were more likely to hare been indebted to the Scots. 
Sect. xvii. page 11:1. 

In the year 1515, one of Sir David Lindsay's comedies 
was acted at the court of Scotland. I have not been able to 



312 NOTES. 

find, that during the whole public life of Wolsey any secu- 
lar dramas in English were exhibited in England. The 
Princess Mary performed in a Latin comedy, which was got 
up at Greenwich, for the entertainment of the French com- 
missioners sent to ratify the treaty concluded by Wolsey for 
the extrication of the pope. Dr Berkenhout mentions, in 
the preface to his Biog. Brit, that about the year 1110, one 
Geoffrey, a schoolmaster in Dunstable, wrote a drama called 
St Katherine, which the doctor, considering as a play, says 
that it carries the authentic history of the English theatre 
two hundred years higher than that of any other modern 
nation. But I conceive that we ought to reject the ecclesi- 
astical performances from the history of the stage ; and the 
title of St Katherine implies that it was a monkish exhibi- 
tion. In the reign of Richard I. Seneca's tragedies, and 
some other Latin dramas, were translated into English by 
Henry, a monk of Hyde Abbey. Lord Berners, who died 
in 1532, was one of our earliest dramatic poets. I have not 
been able to meet with any of his works ; and those of Lord 
Morley, who was almost his contemporary, are supposed to 
be lost. I have given, in the Appendix, extracts from trans- 
lations of Seneca's tragedies made about the beginning of 
Queen Elizabeth's reign. 

16. — Yet the literature of the nation lias certainly not 
declined. Sect. xvii. page 174. 

Unless the king himself have an unaffected predilection 
for the arts and sciences, the court is not more favourable to 
the improvement of knowledge, than the universities of Ox- 
ford and Cambridge under their existing constitutions. A 
century has elapsed since either of these great seminaries has 
possessed, as a resident member, perhaps it may be added, 
produced one man of influential genius; one who has im- 
proved the public taste, or extended the horizon of science. 
In men of learning, and men whose talents have been 
strengthened by the reflections of others, undoubtedly the 



NOTES. 313 

universities of England have not been less prolific, even in 
proportion to the superior opulence of their endowments, 
than those of any other country ; but persons versed only in 
books are not entitled to be classed with those men who, by 
the activity of their genius and the novelty of their notions, 
affect the mass of the public mind, and change its bias and 
motion. It can never indeed be admitted, that the granting 
of emolument to the professors of definite and enacted opi- 
nions will promote the essential interests of reason and li- 
terature. 

There is a list of the most remarkable of the recent off- 
spring of Oxford and Cambridge among the notes of Dr 
Parr's celebrated Spital sermon. It is undoubtedly a splen- 
did list of able characters ; but which one of them all is en- 
titled to the epithet of a man of genius, in the proper mean- 
ing of that term ? which of them can be considered either as 
the head of his class, or the founder of a school ? — a Sir Isaac 
Newton, a Milton, a Dryden, an Addison, an Adam Smith, 
a Franklin, or a Davy ? 

17. — It was only remarkable for ingenious hypotheses, 
unsupported by the evidence of facts, and for a credulous faith 
on astrological influence, equally visionary. Sect, xviii. page 
174. 

I am induced, at the suggestion of a friend, in addition to 
what I have already said upon the obsolete science of astrology, 
to insert here Sir Christopher Heydon's account of the tides, 
from his " Defence of Astrology," published in 1003. — " All, 
or most authentiquc writers, yea Picus himself, attribute the 
ebbing and flowing of the sea to the moone, as to a true and 
positive cause. We see by experiences that the moon placed 
in the heavens at such a position the seas flow, and at such 
a position ebbe, and otherwise not ; and therefore she is the 
cause thereof." Page 431. — " Our spring tides are never 
but in the conjunction of the sunne and moone, when the 
beams of both lights are united in a right line." Page Kit. 



314 NOTES. 

— f< The sunne and other Starrs may hasten, hinder, or alter 
the moon's influence, as we see in spring tides, at the change 
and full moone, and neap tides at quarters." — Page 443. 

With respect to the astrological opinion of the lunar in- 
fluence on diseases, a work has lately been published by a 
medical gentleman, the result, I understand, of his own ob- 
servations during a residence in India. I have not seen the 
work itself. 

18. — By a draft of the statutes written by Wolsey him- 
self, it appears that the permanent members of the college were 
intended to consist of a dean, fyc. Sect. xx. page 178. 

" The Cardinal's college was one of the first seminaries of 
an English university that professed to explode the pedant- 
ries of the old barbarous philosophy, and to cultivate the 
graces of polite literature." — Wartons Hist, of English Poet- 
ry, vol. Hi. page 3. 

At this period, a great contest arose in the university of 
Oxford respecting the modern pronunciation of the Greek 
language. The opponents of the new style called themselves 
Trojans ; they had a Priam, a Hector, a Paris, &c But 
what was at first merely jocular, became the cause of serious 
quarrel. The students felt the rivalry of the ancients, whose 
names they had assumed, and the Isis was disturbed with 
taunts that might have frightened the Scamander. The 
pulpit became as it were a tower of Ilium, for a pious priest 
took an opportunity of declaiming, with the rapture of Cas- 
sandra, against all Greek and Latin literature. At length 
the Cardinal, like Jupiter, interposed, and the Greeks, as of 
old, were victorious. 

19. — He took "measures to obtain copies of all the manu- 
scripts in the Vatican, in addition to the ordinary means of 
procuring books. Sect. xx. page 1 79. 
Fiddes, 306. 

Among the various charges that have been made against the 
Cardinal, the burning of the first translation of the Testament 



NOTES. 315 

is considered not the least heinous. But it ought to have been 
remembered, that the translation was not destroyed merely be- 
cause it served to make the vulgar acquainted with the truths 
of Christianity, but because it was full of errors. The resolu- 
tion to withhold the Scriptures from the people was an af- 
ter thought of the priesthood. In the time of Wolsey, so far 
from the idea being entertained, it was well known that se- 
veral translations did exist of the Scriptures in this kingdom. 
The following is a chronological account of them : — 

A. D. 679. In an extraordinary consistory held at Rome 
about British affairs, it was, among other things, ordained 
that lessons out of the Divine oracles should be always read 
for the edification of the churches. 

734. Bede died in this year, and in his time the Anglo- 
Saxonic translation of the Old and New Testaments existed. 

1228. The first synodical prohibition, or restraint of the 
liberty or birth-right of Christians in the use of the Holy 
Scriptures in their own language, was made this year in a 
synod held at Tholouse, on occasion of the doctrine and 
preaching of the Waldenses, " That the Holy Scripture is 
the rule of Christian faith, and that the reading and know- 
ledge of it is free and necessary to all men." 

1349. Richard Rollo, a hermit of Hampole, in Yorkshire, 
died. He translated and wrote a gloss in English of the 
Psalter; at the end of which he gave this account of his per- 
formance. I quote his own words, altering only the spell- 
ing. The changes in the English language, since that time, 
chiefly affect the orthography. " In this work I seek no 
strange English, but lightest and commonest, and swilk that 
is most like unto the Latin ; so that they that know not the 
Latin, by the English may come to many Latin words. In 
the translation, I follow the letter as meikle as I may, and 
thor I find no proper English, I follow the wit of the words, 
so that they that shall read it, them dare not dread erring. 
In the expounding, I follow holy doctors. For it may come 



316 NOTES. 

into some envious man's hand that knows not what he 
should say, that will say, that I wist not what I said, and 
so do harm till him and till others." The first psalm in this 
translation begins : 
" Blessed is that man, the which ga' heed not in the council 

of wicked, 
And the way of sinful stood not, and in the chair of pesti- 
lence sat not." 

The second psalm also thus : 
" Why gnash'd the folk, and the people thought idle 
thoughts ?" 

In the MS. library of Bene't College, Cambridge, is a gloss 
on some of the books of the New Testament in the English 
about the period of the Conquest. As a specimen of the 
translation the following may be subjoined: — 

Mark i. 7. " And he preached, saying, a stolworther than 
I shall come after me, of whom I am not worthy downfallen 
or kneeling to loose the thongs of his chaucers." 

Mark vi. 22. " When the daughter of that Herodias was 
in come, and had tumbled and pleside to Herod, and also to 
the sitting at meat, the king says to the wench ." 

Mark xii. 1. "A man made a vinerie, and he made about 
a hedge, and grofe a lake, and bigged a tower." 

1381. Some time before this year Wicklif published his 
translation of the Bible. 

1394. About this time the Queen of England had the gos- 
pels in the English tongue. 

1462. The Bible first printed. 

1526. Tyndal's translation of the Testament printed. 

1527. Tyndal's translation of the Testament suppressed 
and burnt, on account, as it was alleged, of numerous hereti- 
cal errors and false translations. Burnt at the instigation of 
the Bishop of London, with the Cardinal's authority. 

1530. Tyndal's translation of the five books of Moses 
printed. 



NOTES. 317 

1531. Tyndal's translation of Jonas' prophecy printed. 

The avidity with which the translations of the Scriptures 
were bought and read, attracted the attention of govern- 
ment. On the 25th May, 1531, the king held a great coun- 
cil, for the purpose of determining what should be done in 
order to counteract the effects of the imperfect translations ; 
and it was resolved that the Scriptures should be purely 
translated. 

20. — Allen, his chaplain, whom he had appointed the 
judge, $c. Sect, xxiii. page 182. 

John Allen. He was appointed to the bishopric of Dub- 
lin in 1528. " The five persons employed by the Cardinal 
to take measures for the demolition of the monasteries quar- 
relled among themselves. One killed another, and was hanged 
for it ; the third drowned himself in a well ; the fourth was 
reduced to beggary ; and Allen, afterwards a bishop, was 
cruelly maimed in Ireland." — Stow. 

21. — The king, it is true, after the affair of the prioress 
ofWinton, continued to evince the same unlimited friendship, 
4;c. Sect, xxiii. page 181. 

Storer, from whose beautiful and very scarce poem I have 
already made several extracts, gives the following picturesque 
description of the Cardinal as a patron of literature : — 

" Look how the God of Wisdom marbled stands, 

Bestowing laurel wreaths of dignity 

In Delphos isle, at whose impartial hands 

Hung antique scrolls of gentle heraldry, 

And at his feet ensigns and trophies lie: 

Such was my state, whom every man did follow, 

A living image of the great Apollo. 









NOTES TO BOOK SIXTH. 



1. — A hull was, notwithstanding, obtained from Julius II. 
to authorise and sanctify its accomplishment. Sect. iii. pngo 
187. 

6th December, 1 503. Burnet's Col. Book II. No I. 

2. — After the death of Claud, §c. Sect. x. page 193. 
Hall gives a dark and mysterious hint about the death of 

this lady. In the year 1525, the Earl of Angus came from 
France to England ; and, being at Windsor, he declared, 
that in the council of France, while he was there, they hap- 
pened to talk of the wars then raging between Charles and 
Francis ; upon which one lord stood up and said, it were bet- 
ter that one person suffered, rather than all the realm should 
be daily in this mischief. It was asked what he meant. 
He answered, that if the queen, who was lame and ugly, 
were dead, ways might be found for the king to marry 
the emperor's sister, and to have with her the duchy of 
Milan ; and then with her money the King of England 
could be paid. But whether this was true or false, certain 
it is that the French queen died very soon after. 






NOTES. 319 

3. — He had before violated his conjugal fidelity, §c. Sect. 
xi. page 196. 

He had a son by a daughter of Sir John Blunt. 

4. — The earliest regular despatch written on the subject 
of the divorce is dated five months posterior. Sect. xii. page 
196. 

5th December, 1527. 

5. — What that way was likely to be, the Cardinal ivas well 
aware, and in consequence addressed Clement with uncommon 
vehemence and eloquent anxiety. Sect. xii. page 198. 

16th February, 1628. Burnet's Coll. No 8. 

6. — An officer, called the apparitor, cried aloud, " Henry, 
King of England, come into the court." Sect. xvi. page 20 J. 

Burnet affirms, that the king did not appear personally, 
but by proxy ; and that the queen withdrew, after reading a 
protest against the competency of her judges : " and from 
this it is clear," says the bishop, " that the speeches that 
the historians have made for them are all plain falsities." 
But it must be observed, that the testimony for the personal 
appearance of the king before the cardinals is surprisingly 
powerful, even though we do not go beyond Cavendish and 
the other ordinary historians. But, in addition to these, re- 
ference may be made to the authority of William Thomas, 
clerk of the council in the reign of Edward VI., and a well- 
informed writer, who, in a professed apology for Henry 
VIII., extant in MS. in the Lambeth and some other lib- 
raries, speaking of this affair, affirms, " That the Cardinal 
(Campegius) caused the king, as a private partye, in person 
to appeare before him, and the ladie Katharine both." Page 
31. — Wordsworth's Ecc. Biog. vol. i. p. 423. 

7. — " For myself," said he, " rath* r than he strayed hy 
fear or affection against the dictates of 'my conscience t 1 will 

suffer to he torn to pieces joint by joint." Sect, xviii. page 
209. 

Burnet's Coll. No xxix. page 75, 



320 NOTES. 

8. — Rochfurd knelt down at the bedside, and, weeping., 
made no reply. Sect. xix. page 211. 

Cavendish. 

9. — She ivas related to the emperor, who had refused to 
feed his insatiable ambition with the papal dignity. Sect. xx. 

page 212. 

It is very doubtful. if Charles, at any of the elections which 
happened during the* administration of Wolsey, was able to 
have procured him the popedom ; and I have not found any 
evidence of the Cardinal ascribing his disappointments to 
remissness on the part of the emperor. The sequel of the 
queen's affairs shows clearly, that she did Wolsey wrong in 
considering him as actuated by malice or resentment against 
her : so far, indeed, was this from being the case, that it 
may be said, he sacrificed himself rather than consent to de- 
cide unjustly against her. The despatches relative to the 
election after the death of Adrian commence at page 80 of 
Dr Fiddes's Collections. 

Charles, on the death of Adrian, as well as at the death 
of Leo, wrote to Rome in favour of Wolsey. I do not sec 
any reason to disbelieve his imperial majesty, especially as w r e 
have it certified by himself in a letter to the Cardinal, dated 
at Pampeluna, 16th December, 1523. — Cottonian Library, 
Vespasian, c. ii. No 52. 

10. — He opened the Michaelmas term at Westminster' 
hall ivith all his usual pomp and ceremony. Sect. xxi. page 
215. 

A contemporary poet gives the following description of the 
style of his procession : — 

" Before him rideth two priests strong, 
And they bear two crosses right long, 

Gaping in every man's face. 
After him follow two laymen secular, 
And each of them holding a pillar 

In their hands, instead of a mace. 



NOTES. 321 



Then followeth my lord on his mule, 
Trapped with gold under her cule 

In every point most curiously. 
On each side a pole-axe is borne, 
Which in none other use are worn, 

Pretending some high mystery. 



Then hath he servants five or six score, 
Some behind and some before ; 

A marvellous great company ; 
Of which are lords and gentlemen, 
With many grooms and yeomen, 

And also knaves among. 
Thus daily he proceedeth forth, 
And men must take it at worth, 

Whether he do right or wrong." 

The following description of the Cardinal's person may be 
added : — 

A great carl he is and fat ; 
Wearing on his head a red hat, 

Procured with angel's subsidy ; 
And, as they say, in time of rain, 
Four of his gentlemen are fain 

To hold o'er it a canopy. 
Besides this, to tell thee more news, 
He hath a pair of costly shoes 

Which seldom touch the ground ; 
They are so goodly and curious, 
All of gold and stones precious, 

Costing many a thousand pound. 
And who did for these shoes pay ? 
Truly many a rich abbey, 

To be eased of his visitation. 



322 NOTES. 

11. — Inventories were made of his furniture, fyc. Sect. 
xxi. page 216. 

In the Harleian Library in the British Museum there is 
one of the Cardinal's inventories. When I opened it, the 
sand was still sticking on the ink, and it appeared in many 
places not to have been opened since it was written. 

12, — He rewarded the bearer of this gratifying intelli- 
gence with a chain of gold and a precious relic from about his 
neck. Sect. xxii. page 217. 

" The Cardinal presented the messenger with a chain of 
gold, at which a piece of the cross hung ; but it troubled 
him much that he had nothing to send to the king, till at 
last, having espied in his train a facetious natural, in whom 
he took much delight, he desired the messenger to present 
him to the king. The fellow, however, did not much relish 
his promotion, for the Cardinal was obliged to send six of his 
tallest yeomen to carry him to court." — Lord Herbert, 293. 

18. — The course which the king pursued, though dic» 
tated, no doubt, by some remains of tenderness, ivas that of all 
others against which he was least able to bear himself with 
fortitude. Sect, xxiii. page 219. 

In the fine moral scene between Wolsey and Cromwell, in 
Henry VIII., Shakspeare appears to have made use of 
Storer's poem ; at least there is something in the tone of the 
following stanza that reminds me of several expressions in 
the Cardinal's reflections : — 

" If once we fall, we fall Colossus like, 

We fall at once like pillars of the sun ; 

They that between our stride their sails did strike, 

Make us sea-marks where they their ships do run, 

E'en they that had by us their treasure won." 






NOTES TO BOOK SEVENTH 



1. — The abortive assurances that he had received from the 
king. Sect. vi. page 230. 

Storer, in making him describe his feelings after his fall, 
uses one of the most pathetic and original images in poetry : 

"lam the tomb where that affection lies 
That was the closet where it living kept ; 
Yet wise men say, Affection never dies : 
No, but it turns ; and, when it long hath slept, 
Looks heavy like the eye that long hath wept." 

2. — Like many other great men in adversity, his mind 
took a superstitious turn, $c Sect. vii. page 231. 

u As my lord was accustomed to walk towards the evening 
in his garden there (Richmond), and to say his even-song, 
and other his divine service, with his chaplain, it was my 
chance to wait upon him ; and standing in an alley, whilst 
he in another alley walked with his chaplain, saying his ser- 
vice, as is aforesaid ; as I stood I espied certain images of 
beasts counterfeited in timber standing in a corner under the 
lodge, to the which I repaired to behold ; among whom I 



324 OTTES. " 

saw stand there a dun cow, whereon I most mused, because 
of the like entailing {sculpture) thereof. My lord, being 
in the further side of the garden, espied me, how I viewed 
and surveyed these beasts ; and, having finished his service, 
came suddenly upon me or I was aware, and speaking to me, 
said, ' What have you espied here, that you look attentively 
upon ?' ( Forsooth, if it please your grace/ quoth I, • here 
I behold these images ; the which, I suppose, were ordained 
to be set up within some place about the king's palace : 
howbeit, sir, among them all, I have most considered this 
cow, in which, as me seemeth, the workman has most lively 
showed his cunning.' ' Yea, marry/ quoth he, ' upon this 
cow hangeth a certain prophecy, the which is this ; because 
peradventure you never heard it before, I will show you. 
Tli ere is a saying, — 

When the cow rideth the bull, 
Then, priest, beware thy scull. 

Of which prophecy, neither my lord that declared it, nor yet 
I that heard it, understood the effect ; although the com- 
passing thereof was at that present aworking, and about to 
be brought to pass. This cow the king had by reason of the 
earldom of Richmond, which was his inheritance ; and this 
prophecy was afterwards expounded in this way : — The dun 
cow, because it was the king's beast,* betokened the king ; 
and the bull betokened mistress Ann Bullen, who was after 
queen, because that her father had a black bull's head in his 



* Almost all the signs of the public-houses in England were ori- 
ginally the crests or arms of popular public characters. The dun 
cow of the alehouses probably originated in the reign of Henry VII., 
who was Earl of Richmond. The chequer of the public-houses in 
London was the arms of the Eails of Arundel, who had anciently the 
privilege of licensing them. 



NOTES. 325 

cognizance, and was his beast ; so that when the king had 
married Queen Anne., the which was unknown to my lord, 
or to any other, that he would do so : then was this prophe- 
cy thought of all men to be fulfilled ; for what numbers of 
priests, religious and seculars, lost their heads for offending 
such laws as were made to bring this marriage to effect, is 
not unknown to all the world.'" — Wordsworth's Cavendish, 
p. 480. 

3. — He held frequent conferences with a venerable old 
man belonging to the brotherhood of the Charter-house at 
Richmond. Sect. vii. page 231. 

" Every day he resorted to the Charter- house there (Rich- 
mond), and in afternoons he would sit in contemplation with 
one of the most ancient fathers of that house in their cells, 
who converted him, and caused him to despise the vain 
glory of the world, and gave him shirts of hair to wear, the 
which he wore diverse times after." — Wordsworth's Caven- 
dish, p. 181. 

4. — On the following Thursday kept Maunday, accord- 
ing to the practice of the church, §c. Sect. viii. page 232. 

" Upon Palm-Sunday he bore his palm, and went in pro- 
cession with the monks, setting forth the divine right ho- 
nourably, with such singing men as he had there of his own ; 
and upon Maunday-Thursday he made his maunday there 
in our Lady's chapel, having fifty-nine* poor men, whose 
feet he washed and kissed ; and, after he had wiped them, 
he gave every of the said poor men twelve pence in money ; 
throe ells of good canvas to make them shirts ; a pair of new 
shoes ; a cast of red herrings, and three white herrings ; and 
one of them had two shillings." — Wordsworth's Cavendish, 
p. l 85. 



• This number denoted that he was then fifty-nine years old 



326 NOTES. 

5. — - Neither in word nor deed have I injured the king, 
and I ivill maintain my innocence face to face with any man 
alive:'' Sect. x. page 234. 

Cavendish, with his accustomed minuteness, gives a very 
pathetic account of the Cardinal's feelings on the day prior 
to his removal from Cawood. — " I resorted unto my lord, 
where he was sitting in a chair, the tables being spread for 
him to go to dinner. But as soon as he perceived me to come 
in, he fell out into such a woeful lamentation, with such 
rueful tears and watery eyes, that it would have caused a 
flinty heart to mourn with him ; and as I could, I, with 
others, comforted him ; but it would not be : for (quoth he) 
' now I lament that I see this gentleman (meaning me) how 
faithful, how diligent, how painful, he hath served me, 
abandoning his own country, wife and children, his house 
and family, his rest and quietness, only to serve me, and I 
have nothing to reward him for his high merits. And also 
the sight of him causeth me to call to my remembrance the 
number of faithful servants that! have here with me, whom I 
did intend to prefer and advance to the best of my power from 
time to time, as occasion should serve. But now, alas ! I am 
prevented, and have nothing here to reward them ; all is de- 
prived me, and I am left their miserable and wretched mas- 
ter. Howbeit (quoth he to me, calling me by name) I am a 
true man, and you shall never have shame of me for your 
service.' ' Sir, (quoth I unto him,) I do nothing mistrust 
your truth ; and for the same I will depose both before the 
king and his honourable council. Wherefore, sir, (kneeling 
upon my knee) comfort yourself, and be of good cheer. The 
malice of your ungodly enemies cannot and shall not prevail. 
I doubt not but, coming to your answer, my heart is such, 
that ye shall clearly acquit yourself, so to your commenda- 
tion and truth, as that, I trust, it shall be much to your great 
honour, and restitution unto your former estate/ ' Yea, 



XOTES. 327 

(quoth he,) if I come to ray answer, I fear no man alive, for 
he liveth not that shall look upon this face (pointing to his 
own face) that shalL be able to accuse me of any untruth ; 
and that know well my enemies, which will be an occasion 
that they will not suffer me to have indifferent justice, but 
seek some sinister means to dispatch me.' ' Sir, (quoth I,) 
ye need not therein to doubt, the king being so much your 
good lord, as he hath always showed himself to be, in all 
your troubles.' With that came up my lord's meat; and so 
we left our former communication, and I gave my lord water, 
and set him down to dinner ; who did eat very little meat, 
but very many times suddenly he would burst out in tears, 
with the most sorrowful words that have been heard of any 
woeful creature." — Wordsworth's Cavendish, page 519. 

6. — In this situation he was found by Sir William King- 
ston, constable of the Tower. Sect. xi. page 235. 

The Cardinal having been once informed that he should 
die at Kingston, he interpreted it to mean Kingston on the 
Thames, which made him always avoid the riding through 
that town, though sometimes the nearest way to his house 
from the court. Cavendish, hearing of Sir William's arrival, 
went to the Cardinal, who was sitting on a chest at the up- 
per end of the gallery, with his staff and his beads in his 
hand. Upon hearing the name of Sir William Kingston, he 
repeated it once or twice, and sighed deeply, adding to some 
observations which Cavendish made, " Well, well, I per- 
ceive more than you can imagine or do know. Experience 
of old hath taught me." 

7. — " Had I served Citxl as diligently as I have done the 
Ling he would not have given me over in my grey hairs." 
Sect. xii. page 238. 

This sentiment seems to be common to fallen ministers. 
When Samrah, the governor of Busorah, was deposed by 
Maoujyah, the sixth caliph, he is reported to have said, " If 



328 NOTES. 

I had served God so well as I served him, he would not have 
condemned me ," and Antonio Perez, the favourite of Philip 
II. of Spain, made a similar complaint. 

8. — As the clock struck eight he expired. Sect. xii. page 238. 
November, 29, 1530. 

9. — The funeral service was protracted by unusual dirges 
and orisons, and it was past midnight before the interment 
took place. Sect. xiii. page 238. 

Storer, in allusion to the obscurity of the Cardinal's grave, 
says, in addressing Melpomene, 
, " Perchance the tenour of that mourning verse 
May lead some pilgrim to my tombless grave, 
Where neither marble monument nor hearse 
The passengers' attentive vein may crave ; 
Which honours now the meanest person have. 
But well is me, where'er my ashes lie, 
If one tear drop from some religious eye." 
Bishop Corbet, in his " Iter Boreale," also, in allusion to 
the same circumstance, says, 

i( Although from his own store Wolsey might have 
A palace or a college for his grave, 
Yet here he lies interr'd, as if that all 
Of him to be remember'd were his fall ; 
Nothing but earth to earth, nor pompous weight 
Upon him but a pebble or a quoit." 
10. — Few have been thrown down from, so great a height 
under the imputation of smaller crimes. Sect. xiv. page 239. 
Lord Herbert, 343. 






APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



BOOK I. ~/-JJ. 



When I first projected this work, I made a large collection 
of state papers, and copies of original letters, which I in- 
tended to have modernized in the orthography and grammar ; 
but I was afterwards induced to alter this intention, and to 
consider the Appendix as the inferior part of my book, 
have, therefore, only selected such of the papers as I thought 
necessary to verify the facts that I have added to the relation 
of circumstances in the narrative, and the notices that I have 
introduced of the different public personages with whom 
Wolsey had to deal. J. G. 

A Narrative, supposed to be a contemporary, or rather a kind 
of Gazette, Account. 

" Hereafter ensue the trewe encountre or batayle lately 
don betwene Englande and Scotlande. In which batayle the 
Scottishe kynge was slayne. 

" The maner of thaduauncesynge of my lord of Surrey, 
treasourier and marshall of Englande, and lcuetenuntc gene- 
rail of the north parties of the same, with xxvi.M men to 
wardcs the kynge of Scots and his armye, vewed and nom- 
bred to an hundred thousande men at the leest. 



332 APPENDIX. 

" Firste my said Lorde at his beynge at Awnewik in Nor- 
thumbrelande the iiij. daye of Septembre the v. yere of 
y e reygne of kynge Henry the VIII. herynge that y e kynge 
of Scottes thenne was remoued from North'me, and dyd lye 
at forde castel, and in those partyes dyd moche hurte in 
spoylyng, robynge, and brennynge, sent to the sayde kynge 
of Scottes ruge cros purseuaunte at armes to shewe vnto hym 
that for somoche as he the sayde kynge, contrary to his ho- 
nour, all good reason and conscyence, and his oothe of fide- 
lite, for y e ferme entartnynge of perpetuall peas betwene the 
kyng hygnes our souyerayne lorde and hym, had inuaded. 
this raalme, spoylad brente, and robbyd dyuers and sonderf 
townes and places in the same. Also had caste and betten 
downe the castel of Norhame, and crewelly had murdered 
and slayne many of the kynnes liege people, he was co'men 
to gyue hym baytal. And desyred hym y*, for so moche as 
he was a kynge and great prynce, he wolde of his lusty and 
noble courage consent therunto, and tarye y e same. And 
for my sayde lordes partie his lordeship promysed y e assured 
accomplysshement and perfourmance therof as he was true 
knyght to God and the kynge his mayster. The kynge of 
Scottes herynge this message reyceued and kepte w fc hym 
y e sayd ruge cros purseuaunte and wolde nat sufFre hym at 
y e tyme to retourne agayne to my sayd lorde. 

" The v. daye of Septembre his lordshyp, in his ap- 
prochynge nyghe to the borders of Scotlande, mustred at 
Bolton, in Glendayll, and lodged that nyght therein y' felde 
with all his armye. 

" U The next day beynge the vi daye of Septembre, the 
kynge of Scottes sent to my sayd lor of Surrey a harokle of 
his called Ilaye, and demaunded if that my sayde Lorde 
wolde iustefye the message sent by the sayd purseuaunte 
ruge cros as is a foresayd, sygnefyingc that if my lorde wolde 
so doo it was the thynge that moost was to his joye and 
comforte. To this demaunde my lord made answere afore 



APPENDIX. 



333 



dyuers lordes, knyghtes, and gen time' nyghe iii myles from 
the felde where was the sayde harolde was apstoynted to 
tarye, bycause he shulde nat vewe the armye, that he com- 
maunded not oonly the sayde ruge cros to speke and shewe 
the seyde wordes of his message, but also gaue and corny tted 
vnto hym the same by instruccyon sygned and subscrybed 
with his owne hande, whiche my sayde lorde sayd he wolde 
justefye. And for so moche as his lordshyp conceyued by 
the sayde harolde how joyous and comfortabel his message 
was to y e sayde kynge of Scottes, he therfore, for the more 
assuraunce of his message, shewed that he wolde be bou'den 
in x.m li and good suertes with his lordshyp to gyue the 
sayde kynge batayle by Frydaye next after, at the furthest, 
if that the sayde kynge of Scottes wolde assyne and appoynte 
any other erle or erles of his realme to be bounden in lyke 
maner that he wolde abyde my sayde lordes commynge. 
And for somoche as the sayd kynge of Scottes reyued styll 
with hym ruge cros purseuau'te, and wolde nat suffre hym 
to retourne to my lorde, my sayde lorde in like and sem- 
blable maner dyd kepe with hym the scottesshe harolde Hay, 
and sant to the sayd kynge of Scottes with his answere and 
further offer, as is af dre rehersed, a gentylman of Scotlande 
that accompany ed and came to my sayde lorde with the sayd 
harolde Hay. And thus Hay contynued, and was kepte 
close, tyll the commynge home of ruge cros, whiche vas the 
next daye after. And thenne Hay was put at large, and ly- 
berte to retourne to the kynge of Scottes his maystere, to 
shewe my lordes answercs, dcclaracyons, and goodly offers, 
as he had hade in euery behalue of my sayde lorde. 

" H The same daye my lorde deuyded his arme in two 
bataylles ; that is, to wytte, in a vau'warde and a rercvvarde ; 
and ordcyncd my Lorde Ilowarde admorall, his sone, to be 
capitaync of the sayde vaunwardc, and hymselfe to be chefe 
capitaync of the rercwarde. 
" U In the breste of y c sayd vaunwardc was w l the sayde 



334 APPENDIX. 

jorde admorall ix thousande men ; and vnder capitaynes of 
the same breste of the battayle was the Lorde Lumley,Syr 
Wyll'm Bulmer the Baron of Hylton, and dyuerse other of 
the byschopryche of Duresme, vnder Seynt Cuthbert his 
banner ; the Lorde Scrope of Upsall, the Lord Ogle, Syr 
Wyllyam Gascoygne, Syr Cristofer Warde, Syr John Euer- 
ingh'm, Sir Walter Griffith, Syr John' Gower, and dyuers 
other esquyres and gentylmen of Yorkeshyre and North- 
umberland. And in ayther wynge of the sam batayle was 
iiiM. men. 

" IT The capitayne of the right wynge was mayster Ed- 
monde Howarde, son to my seyde Lorde of Surrey : and 
with hym was Syr Thomas Butler, Syr John Boothe, Syr 
Richarde Boolde, and dyuerse other esquyers and gentylmen 
of Lancasshyre and Chassyre. 

" 1T The capitayne of the laste wynge was olde Syr Marma- 
duke Co'steble, and with hym was mayster Wyll'm Percy, 
his sons elawe, Wyll'm Constable, his broder, Syr Robert 
Constable, Marmaduke Constable, Wyll'm Constable, his 
sones, and Syr John Constable of Holderness, with dyuerse 
his kynnesmen, allies, and other gentylmen of Yorkeshyre 
and Northumberlande. 

" If In the breste of batayle of the sayde rerewarde was 
vM. men with my saide Lorde of Surrey ; and vnder capi- 
taynes of the same was the Lord Scrope of Bolton, Syr 
Philype Cyney, broder elawe to my sayd Lord of Surrey, 
George Darcy, sone and heyre to the Lord Darcy, saydc 
beynge capitayne of the firste batalye of the scottes fyersly 
dyd sette upon master Edmonde Howarde, capitayne of the 
vttermoste parte of the felde at the west syde. And be- 
twene them was so crueH batayle that many of our parte, 
Chesshyre men and other, dyd flee. And the sayd mayster 
Edmonde, in maner lefte alone, without socoure, and his 
standerde and berer of the same beten and hewed in peces, 
and hymsel thrysc stryken downc to the grou'd, howbeit, 
lykc a couragyous and an hardy yongc lusty gcntylman, he 



APPENDIX. 



335 



recouered agayne, and faught hande to ha'de with one Sir 
Dauy Home, and slewe hym with his owne handes. And 
thus the sayde raasyter Edmonde was in great perell and 
daunger, tyll that the Lorde Dacre, lyke a good and an 
hardy knyght, releued and came vnto hym for his socoure. 

" H The seconde batayle came vpon my Lorde Howarde. 
The thirde batalye, wherin was the Kynge of Scottes and 
moste parte of the noble men of his reame came fyersly vpon 
my sayd Lorde of Surrey. Whiche two bataylles, by the 
helpe of Elmyghty God, were, after a great confydelyete, 
venquysshed, ouercomen, betten downe, and put to flyght ; 
and fewe of them escaped with their lyues. Syr Edwardc 
Stanley beynge at the vttermoste parte of the sayde rere- 
warde, onhes partie seynge the fourthe batayle redy to releue 
the said Kynge of Scottes batayle, couragyously, and lyke 
a lusty and a hardy knyght dyd sette upon the same, and 
ouercame and put to flyght all the Scottes in the sayd ba- 
tayle. And thus, by the grace, socour, and helpe of Al- 
myghty God, victory was gyuen to the reame of England ; 
and all the Scottysshe ordendn'ce wonne and brought to 
Ettell and Barwykein surelie. 

" If Hereafter ensueth the names of sundry noblemen of 
the Scottes slayne at the sayde batayle and felde called 
Brainston's moore. 



Firste y e Kyng of Scotoes. 
The Archebysshop of Seynt 

Androwes. 
The Bysshop of Thyles. 
The Bysshop of Ketnes. 
The Abbot Y'nchafFrey. 
The Abbot of Kylwenny. 
Therle of Mountroose. 
Thcrle of Crafordc 
Therle of Argyle. 
Therle of Lennox. 



Therle of Lencar. 
Therle of Castelles. 
Therle of Bothwell. 
Therle Arell, constable. 
Lorde Lowett. 
Lorde Forboos. 
Lorde Elweston.' 
Lord Inderby. 
Lorde Maxwell. 
Mac Keyn'. 
Mac Clccn'. 



336 APPENDIX. 

John' of Graunte. Lord Dawisfie. 

The maist : of Agwis, Sir Alexander Scotlon'. 

Lorde Roos. Sire John Home. 

Lorde Tempyll. Lorde Coluin. 

Lorde Borthyke. Sir Dauy Home. 

Lorde Askyll. Cuthbert Home of Fascastell. 

" Over and aboue the seyd p'sones there at slayne of the 
Scottes, vevvd by my Lord Dacre, the noumbre of xi. or xii. 
thousande mend. And of Englysshme' slayne and taken 
prysoners vpon xii.c dyuers prysoners are taken of y e Scottes, 
but noo notable person saue oonly Syr Wyllm' Scotte, 
knyght, councellor of the sayde Kynge of Scottes, and, as is 
sayd, a gentylma' well learned; also S'r John' Forma', 
knyght, broder to the Bysshop of Murrey; which bysshop, 
as is reported, was, and is, most pryncypal procurour of this 
warre; and one other, called S'r John' Colehone. Many 
other Scottysshe prysoners coude and myght haue been 
taken, but they were soo vengeable and cruell in their fyght- 
yngy, that whenne Englysshmen had the better of them 
they wolde nat saue them, though it so were that dyuerse 
Scottes offered great su'mes of money for theyr lyues. 

" U It is to be noted, that the felde beganne betwene iiij. 
and v. at after noone, and contynued within nyght. If it 
had fortuned to haue ben further afore nyght many mo 
scottes had ben slayne and taken prysoners. Louynge be to 
Almyghty God, all the noble men of Englande that were 
vpon the same felde, both lordes and knyghtes, are safe from 
any hurte. And none of theym awantynge saue oonly 
maister Harry Gray, syr Huinfeide Lyle, both prysoners in 
Scotlande, Syr John' Gower, of Yorkeshyre, and syr John' 
Boothe, of Lancasshyre, both wantynge, and as yet nat 
founden. 

1 ' U In this batayle the scottes hadde many great auaunta- 
gies ; that is to wytte the hyghe hylles and mountaynes, a 



APPENDIX. <*337 

great wynde with them,, and sodayne rayne, all contrary to 
our bowes and archers. 

" 1 It is nat to be doubted but the scottes fought manly, 
and were determyned outher to wynne y e felde or to dye. 
They were also as well apoynted as was possyble, at all 
poynts, with armoure and harneys, so that fewe of them 
were slayne with arrowes. Howbeit the bylles dyd bete and 
hewe them down with some payne and daunger to englysshe- 
men. 

" The sayd scottes were so playnely determyned to abyde 
batayle, and nat to flee, that they put from them theyr horses, 
and also put of theyr bo'tes and shoes, and faught in the vampis 
of theyr hooses, every man for the moost p'tie, with a kene 
and sharpe spere of v yerdes longe, and a target afore hym. 
And when theyr speres fayled and were all spent, then they 
faught with great and sharpe swerdes, makynge lytell or no 
noys withoue that, that for p'tie many of them wolde desyre 
to be saued. 

" 1 The felde where ye scottes dyd lodge was nat to be 
reprouyed, but rather to be co'mended greatly, for there 
many and great nombre of goodily tenttes, and moche good 
stuffe in the same ; and in the sayd felde was plentie of 
wyne, bere, ale, beif, mutton, salfysshe, and other vytalles, 
necessary and conuenyent for suche a great army ; albeit our 
armye, doutynge that the sayd vytalles hadde ben poysoned 
for their distruccyon, wolde nat saue, but vtterly distroyed 
them. 

" ^ Hereafter cnsueth the names of suche noble men as, 
after the felde, were made kynght, for theyr valyau'ce act, 
in the same by my sayd lord therlc of Surrey. 
" 1F Firste, my Lord Scrope, Sir John Hoothome. 

of Upsall. Sir Nicholas Appleyarde. 

Sir Will'm Percy. Sir Edwarde Goorgc. 

Sir-Edmonde Ilowardc. Sir Rauf Ellercar ye yo'ger. 

Sir George Darcy. Sir John Wyliyby. 

Y 



338 APPENDIX. 

Sir W. Gascoygne y e yo'ger. Sir Edwarde Echingh'me. 

Sir Will'm Medlton'. Sir Edward Musgrau. 

Sir Will'm Maleuerdy. Sir John' Stanley. 

Sir Thomas Bartley. Sir Walter Stonner. 

Sir Marmaduke Costable y e Sir Wyuiane Martynfelde. 

yo'ger. Sir Will'm Rous. 

Sir X'p'ofer Dacre Sir Thomas Newton.' 

Sir Raffe Bowes. Sir Roger of Fenwyke. 

Sir Briane Stapelton', of Wyg- Sir Roger Gray. 

hall. Sir Thomas Connyers. 

Sir Guy Dawny. My Lord Ogle. 

Sir Raffe Salwayne. Sir Thomas Strangewase. 

Sir Richard Malleurey. Sir Henri Thiuaittes. 

Sir Will'm Constable, of My Lorde Lumley. 

Hatefeld. Sir X'p'ofer Pekerynge 

Sir Will'm Constable, of Sir John Bulmer. 

Larethorpe. " 1 Emprynted by me, Rich- 
Sir X'p'ofer Danby. arde Faques, dwllyng in 
Sir Thomas Burght. Paulys churche-yerde." 



Charles V. to Cardinal Wolsey. 

" Mons r - le cardinal mon bon amy, j'ay receu vos l'res du 
5 de ce mois, par les quelles et ce que mes ambasseurs mon 
escript de v're part j'ay entendu v're bon conseil la bonne 

soing et extimacion que pourtez de l'honneur et 

scheurte de ma personne, ensemble la bonne affection et in- 
clination, que vous avez touchant les traits et indissoluble 
conjunction d'entre le roy, mon bon oncle, et raoy, dont je 
vous remercie cordiallement. 

" Et pour vous dire princement ma resolution com'e cellui 
que je tiens pour mon bon et loyal amy et en qui j'ay ma 
. . . comme povez bien cleremcnt a parceuvir, je vous ad- 
vertis fra'chement que je suis delibcre de moyennant l'ayde 
de Dieu fa' et execute' ceque j'ay entrcprise, et mesment d'y 



APPENDIX. 339 

aller en ma personne, car je ne puis laisser ny difFertz pour 
mon bien et Jionneux dainte le faire, et combien que je tiens 
tres bons et . . . . fort tout ce que . . . serv'ce propos et 
congruon que bon procede de bonne affection toutefois quand 
nous aurons parler ensemble, et que aurez euy et entendu 
mes raisons de ne faire .... que serez de mon advis et de- 
meurrons bien co'te Tung de Flautre. 

" Et pource comme j'aurex j'ay toujours . . . et pre- 
feree l'alliance et . . . confedertion du roy mon bon oncle 
sur toute lautres et fait encoures ainsi que pauvez bien 
clerement cognog, d'autant que toutes choses sont si avant 
approucheis, tant de v're part que de la myene, et a cet effect 
pour y prendre meilleur et plus segeure conclusion, vous 
m'avex toujours fait dire, que me voulez advertiz, d' la part 

du dit p r roy mon bon oncle, d'aucune choses que 

homme doit savoir n'y entendre que luy, vous et 

moy ; lesquelles choses je ne faire doubte sont de si grande 
importance, que . . . pourra etre Tung des principaules point 
du fondement de noz affaires ; et aussi, de mon couste, je 
vous ay fait dire que je suis delibere, pour la grande confi- 
dance que j'ay en vous, de semblablement vous declarer tout 
le fons de moy ceeur, aussi avant que je feroje a la propre 
personne don sa roy mon oncle, et je me toujours ferme a 
mon propos et ces causes a qu'il est impossible de scavoir 
bien traiter vraiement ni serieusement des matieres que vous 
scavoir, sans premicrement envers desmelle et desconnaest 
l'ung a l'autre toutes ses grosses matieres. Je demeurc aussi 
en ma resolution, que j'ay toujours desire, c'est de conclure 
avcc vous moy mesmes, et user entierement de v're bon avis 
et conseil, ct faire cela je feusse desire en mon arme, a ccs 
causes, et que vous cognoissoit le grande dommage que cc 
mest, de tant retardcr mes aff'res, lesquelles sont telz que ne 
mc peuient souffrir plus grande dillacion, ct sous les choses 
si tres avant que je no puis ni vouldroyt readier de cc que 
j'ay entreprens, je vous prie sur tons los plaisers que une 



340 APPENDIX. 

vouldreiz fer que vueillez avoir bon regard a ce que dessus. 
Et pour y prendre la totale co'clusion, vous vouloir trouver a 
Bruges dymanche prochain, jusques auquel jours je vous y 
actendray combien que ce me soit grosse retarducien et me 
ne laisse jamais pense si longue, car, sant point de fauete, il 
me feroit ung dommange irreparable passer les jour ny se- 

tendre plus avant ce que je suis ne vauldriz point, 

et si me voulez comme bien li pouves fa . . , 

et espert que ferez je ne faire mille doubte que vous et mois 
aurant fait en deux ou trois jours au plus tard, car nous fe- 
ront plus en ung jour vous et moy ensemblee, que ne fe- 
roient mes ambassadeurs en ung mois, ostant qu'il ne fauldra 
renvoyer de Tung a, l'autre, que feroit une grande perdicion 
de temps, et aussi que par vos ex'es mes . . . que les fa roy 
mon bon oncle et vous, estes delibere de besoignez et conclure 
franchement avec moy, ce que je suis au semblable en bon vau- 
loir fa', de ma part, comme le cognoissez par efFet, si a vous ne 
tient, a ceste cause vous prie me faire ce plesir de . . . de v're 
bonne intencion le plutot que pourry car si ne voulez venir 
au dit jour, et que de ferer me venir truver plus loing comme 
en mon camp je vous montreray mon armee par Iaquelle 
cognoisstry que nay vouloir de dormir a l'ayde de Dieu et 
de mes dons amis, et me ferez le bien venu, comme plus au 
long je script a mes ambassadeurs pour le vous dire de ma 
part ensemble de mes nouvelles pour ce que a vous comme 
a mon bon ami j'entends ou nentement decFer et communi- 
quer tous mes affres et accla je continueray de bien en mieux, 
si plait a Dieu, auquel je prie, mons'r le cardinal mon mon 
ami, que vous ait en sa garde. Escript a Escloz les Bruges 
le d'Aoust 1521. 

" V'rc bon ami, 

" Charles." 



341 



BOOK THIRD. 



" Margaret Quene of Scotts Letter to my Lord Cardinal. 

" My Lord Cardinal, I comende me hartely unto you, 
and I have receyved yo r wtying, w 1 the articles subscribed 
w l your hand ; whereunto I have made answer at length, in 
al poynts ; and therfore I wil not be long to you in this 
vv'tyng ; but I pray you hartely, my lord, to consider wel 
the answere of yo* said articles ; and not to take so grete re- 
gard as ye do by your w'tyng to my Lord of Angwisshe ; 
which and ye do will put grete trouble in this realme, and 
hable to put the king my sonne in his enemyes hands; 
wherfor, seying that I and my partakers have put the king 
my sonne out of the dangier that he was in, I thinke it 
should be wel considered, and in such a sorte that Th'erle 
of Angwysh shulde not be sent in this realme, and specially 
by the king's grace my brother, which must be o r defendor 
and helper, and shulde geve occasion to noblemen to take 
the kynge my sonnes p'te and mine, beleving that therthrowe 
to wynne his grac's favor, and wil cause them to be the bet- 
ter myndede unto the kyng my sonne and me ; and gif his 
grace will sonde me Therle of Angwishe, that is contrary 
p'te to Therle of Arreyn, it will be occasion to hym to leve 
the good p'te that he hath repcd, and to labor othcrways for 
hymselfe, and all his friends, in danger of their ly ves, for the 
weale of the kinge my sonne, and me. And if this shuld 
not be lokcd upon, before the pleasure of Th'erle of An- 

guishe, that did nev' stik stedc and to the king my 

soone, nor may not do, suppose ye, my lord, by other wayes, 



342 APPENDIX. 

I informed and geves trust to the same, as the articles berith 
at length, not the lesse, my lord, I pray you, as my grete 
trust is in you, that ye wil labor in that sorte for me, that 
I and my partakers may be in a surety, that Th'erle of An- 
gwishe shall not come in Scotland, as at more length th' ar- 
ticles berys, and that with diligence I may be advertised of 
the king's grace my brother's pleasure ; for while that I be 
in suretie of sike matiers as I have written, I trust the am- 
bassadors shal not be sped, for my partakers thinkith that 
gif they labor for the pleasure of-the king's grace my brother, 
that on his side he shuld shewe kyndnes to theym afore any 
Scottishman, after the king my sonne. Praying you, ther- 
fore, my lorde, to gyve good counsaile to the king's grace 
my brother, and to let me have answer incontinentlie, for 
the furtherying of all matiers, and God have you in his 
kepying. Written the 6th day of October, at Edynburgh. 



" The Copie of my Lord Cardinal? s L'res, sent to the Lord 
Dacre of the Northe. 
" After right affectuous recommendations, my lorde, 
though I have recey ved no l'res from you sens myne arry vail 
on this side the see ; ne yet, as I am informed, ye have not 
advertised the kyng's highnes eyther of the state of his 
bord'os of the demeann' of the Scotts, sens my departying 
oute or of England ; yet the king's highnes hath now of late 
signified unto me, that credible reaporte is made unto hym 
howe the Scotts have not onely made dyv'se & many exc'sis 
in North'mb'land, by brennyng certeyn villagis, takyng sun- 
dry p'soners, and dryvyng away moche cattell and shipe, but 
also that great preparacion is made in Scotland for the com- 
yng of the Duke of Albany thider; and rememberyng 
yo r olde accustumable proudent demeano r as well in the at- 
teyning assuird knowledge of the intended purpose of the 
Scotts, from tymc to tyme, by such good csp'icll and intelli- 



APPENDIX. 343 

gence that ye have had amongs the said Scotts, as of the 
bruits and newes occ'rant amongs theym, it is the more mer- 
vailed, that if eyther any such attemptats have been made 
by the said Scotts upon the king's subjects, or that any such 
bruits be in Scotland of the said duke's thider comyng, that 
ye have not advertised the king's highnes or me therof be- 
fore this tyme ; wherfor I thought ryght expedient, not onely 
to put you in remembraunce therof, so that ye may w* all 
diligence advertise me howe every thing hath proceeded 
there duryng myue absence out of the realme; to the 
intent I may at my comyng to the king's presence, which, 
God willing, I shal be w l in brief tyme, ascertayne his high- 
nes therin, wherof to here his grace is moche desirous, but 
also to notifie unto you what I have herde of the transport- 
yng of the said Duke of Albany into Scotland ; w* myne 
advise & counsaile what is expedient and necessary to do, 
upon the same ; trowthe it is that credible reaporte hath 
been made unto me nowe of late, that the said duke is not 
onely passed, or shall shortely passe oute of Fraunce into Scot- 
land, w* the nombre of two or thre thousand men of warre,but 
also hath made great & instant labo r in the courte of Rome, 
for a divorce to be had and made for seperacion of the mariage 
betwixt the Quene of Scotts and Therle of Anguisshe, in- 
tendyng to marye w* the said quene, wherunto it is said she 
is agreable, and that the same duke intendeth to aspir' to the 
crowne of Scotlande ; whiche he cannot atteyne unlesse he 
destroye the yong king, and if th' p'misses be of trouth, as 
by many co jectures it is in great apparence, right necessary 
it is, that ye not only make diligent espiell in Scotland, for 
assurd knowledge to be had of the p'misses, but also notifie 
the same to Therle of Anguisshe, the Humes, and such 
others as by the comyng of the said duke into Scotland shal 
be put in danger of their lyves and lands, so that they may 
make their p'tie good and puissant to stoppc and lette the 
damnable & abhominable purpose of the said duke. It is 



344 APPENDIX. 

verely thought, that in case the said detestible intente & 
mynde of the said duke were published in Scotland it shulde 
provoke the nobles & comons agenste hym, wherby he 
mought be put in danger at his first comyng ; and to the 
intent the said bruite may be made in Scotland upon true 
grounds, I ascerteyne you for a trouth, that the French 
kyng nowe of late shewd unto Th'erle of Worcest'r, the 
kyng's chamburlayn, and the Bishop of Ely, that the said duke 
not only intendeth, in coverte man' to passe into Scotland, but 
also hath labored to purchase the said divorce for mareing 
the quene, suspectyng therby the danger of the said yong 
kyng. And albeit the said duke could not departe oute of 
Fraunce w^ute the p'mission & sufferance of the French 
kyng, yet it is in appearance that he dissemblith ther'in. I 
am also adv'tised, by the kyng's orato r , from the courte of 
Rome, that the same divorce is instantly pursued by the 
Duke of Albany ther — in consideration wherof ye have good 
and probable grounds to instructe as well the said Erie of 
Anguisshe as the Homes, and other nobles of Scotland, suche 
as ye shall think good, that this is the onely purpose of the 
same duke's comying into Scotland. And that he bringeth 
his men of warre with hym, not for the defence of that land, 
but only to destroy the said erle, and other nobles, that 
wollde resist and lette hym in th'achy vying of this his dam- 
nable mynde & enterp'se, whiche he knoweth well can nev' 
be brought to passe, onlesse the said erle and his adherents 
be subduyed. Wherfor ye may p'suade unto the said erle, 
the Homes, and others, that if they tender the salvegard of 
their p'nce, if they love their lyves, lands, & succession, they 
must w l all diligence possible, like valiant and noble men, 
put themselves in readynes, w* all their friends strength 
and puissance, to p'serve theymself & subdue their mortal 
cnenaye ; for surely, if they loke not substancially thcrunto, 
both the yong kyng, they, and all the nobilitie of Scotland, 
shal be in greate danger. And yc may say, that, inasmochc 
as the Kyng of Scotts, bcyng the kyng's ncvewe, shall by 



APPENDIX. 34$ 

suche practises peryshe, and his sister the 'queen be disho- 
nored and lost therby for ever, ye doabte not but his high- 
nes in this their laudable and vertuous querell woll favo r ^ 
aide, and assiste them, encouragyng theym w 1 such good 
words, vehement bruits, & co'fortable p'suasion, to stire and 
excite, not onely theym, but also the nobles and comons of 
Scotland, ageynst the said duke, wherby either he shal be in 
danger at his comyng to Scotland, or els be exterminate from 
thens for ev\ And if the some of x or xii m marks were 
politiquely spent, to set this division in Scotland, and to 
provoke the indignation of the nobles and subjects agenst 
the said duke, in myne opynion it shulde be well emploied, 
consideryng the greate effects and good consequent that theroi 
may ensue, wherby greate somes of money may therby be saved, 
as ye wel know : the p'misses considered, I right hartely desire 
& pray you, after your accustomable prudent & politique man', 
not onely to set furth theis practises w* all spedie diligence, 
but also to adv'tise me w l semblable diligence what ye shall 
and may do therein, wherby ye do m'vailous greate pleasure 
and s'vice to the kyng's highness, moch redoundyng to his 
honor and the suretie of his realme, assuryng you, that 
whatsoever ye shall promyse, lay oute, or coven'nte wt the 
said nobles, kepying yo r self w*in the bonds of the said somes, 
till ye may adv'tise me of your said further advise, it shalbe 
surely contented and paid unto you, requirying you to do 
effectual diligence therein." 



Gawin Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld, to Cardinal Wolscy. 

From the Cottonian Library, Caligula, B. VI., No U7. 
Orthography altered to modern Scotch by J. G. 

£1 publish this spirited letter of a celebrated poet, in con- 
trast with the base applications of other Scotchmen.]] 

" Please your Grace, my chaplain, whilk was yesterday at 
your presence, shews me, that Gait, the secretary of the 



346 APPENDIX 

duke of Albany, has said to your grace, that I promist not 
to come within this realm ; and wherefore, of his master's 
behalf, beseacht your grace to withhold me herein, and let 
me pass no farther. My lord, I believe your high wisdom 
will not give credence so lightly against me ; and specialie 
to the Duke of Albany, or any of his servands, whilk is capi- 
tal and deadly enemy to me and all my house. And, there- 
fore, it is no wonder albeit he say sik things for my harm, 
whilk divers times, and yet daily, hath said and done all 
that he may or can imagine to my destruction, and extermi- 
nation of all my kin. And, as I shall answer to God and 
your grace, the contrare of it he said, is plain writ ; for, both 
by messenger and writin, I declarit how plainlie I would 
pass though this realm, and no other way ; and gart shew 
him what day I had appointed to enter in your ground of 
England ; the whilk I kept trulie. And this your grace 
may consider what favour he has to me, or how I should be 
entreated, if I was in Scotland, under his subjection ; or 
when, if I past to France, or any other part where he may 
solicit any thing, when he is so bold within this realm 
(wherein I trust he has little credence), as for to solicit 
your grace to my hurt. Albeit you have grantit me, the 
king's highness, safe conduct, the which, I trust, I shall not 
forfeit, nor yet your grace will suffer to be taken from me. 
Beside this the matter is precious, if any kirkman should be 
stoppet gangand to Rome, for his lawful defence on summon 
thither, as, nevertheless, your grace knows full well, I may 
be lightly entretit to remain here, but no ways at his com- 
mand nor desire; and full well I wat your high wisdom 
knows what is to be done on any service to sik a pretention 
mickle better nor I, and many sik, can imagine. Albeit, if 
it might stand with your pleasure, I would bespeak your 
grace to answer to this Gait ; that, if the duke, his master, 
will be content my action and matter be remetit forth from 
Home to your grace, and before your arbitration, whereof I 
would be glad, your grace should cause me remain ? and al- 



APPENDIX. 347 

so, why or how should you hold me frae my lawful defence, 
whilk is of the law of nature ; speeialie I having the king's 
safe conduct to pass, as said is ? This is my little case, under 
correction of your grace, whom I beseach to pardon this my 
so homely writing ; and the Holy Trinitie have your grace 
in lessit and .... keeping. At London, this new 
year's day, subcrevit with the hand of 

" Your humble beedsman, 

" Gawn of Dunkeld." 



T. Magnus to Cardinal Wolsey, on Scottish Affairs. 
" Pleas it your grace to be adv'tissed, that by my letter of 
the secunde daye of this moneth, I ascertayned your saide 
grace of suche ymmynent daungers, troubles, and gret va* 
riaunces, as were right nigh at hand, betwene the quenes 
grace here, and other the lordes ; that is, to wite, tharch- 
bisshop of Saint Andrewes, the bisshop of Aburdyne, w l son- 
dery other bisshps, therles of Anguysshe, Argile, Leneux, 
and many other erles and barrons of this realme, as by the 
copies of thair l'res, and of thair proclamacons, I doubte not 
at large it did appere. Soe it was, as thenne I wroote unto 
your said grace, the saide lordes, assembled and convened at 
Sterling, on Monday the xj th daye of this saide moneth, be- 
twene whoom and the quenes saide grace many messags have 
paste for the pacifying of the variaunces and debates betwene 
thaym concernyng the preservacon of the yong king here in 
his good health, educacon, and good gov'ance, in this his 
tendre age, the rule and ordering of this his realme, w e due 
admynistracon of justice, a directe orde r to be had for the 
bringing ynn of the revenues of his possessions, for the 
maynten'nce of his estate and dignitye royall, and for a good 
peas, to be had betwene Englande and Scotlandc. And, for 
so myche as the saide lordes suppoosed by thair l'rts directe 
to the quenes grace, it was right paynfull and troublous to 
send from tymc to tymc soe farr as betwene Edinburgh and 



348 APPENDIX. 

and Sterling ; thay therfore, and for the moore comodyte of 
the causes in controversy, repared to a toune called Dal- 
keeth, wtynne onn myles of this toune, upon Thursday 



" And, for the debating and repressing of the attemptats 
com'itte by the said lordes, the quenes grace was mynded, 
and procured, that the therles of Arren, Murray, Eglington, 
and Cassilles, w l other lordes, reparing hider for the kinggs 
surety, shulde give bataill to the other lordes and party. 
Howe be it, upon counsaille and advice taken by thaym, 
they made aunswer to the quenes saide grace, they sawe noe 
cause why thay shulde soe doe, oonles the kinggs grace here 
shuld goe furthe in his onne p'son, and that any his subjects 
wolde invade his said grace as if a foe were, than wold to the 
uttermooste of thair powers defend hym, as their soveraine 
lorde and maister, and elles thay wolde not in any wise at- 
tempte any. thing ageinste the other party by hostilite of 
warre. The quenes grace, being mynded that the king her 
sonne shulde not passe from oute of her custody and keping, 
inaventure his grace shulde not retorne unto her ageine, 
wolde not agree to the requests and mynds of the saide 
lordes; but saide she was content that, for sorayche as a 
grete part of this variaunce proceded betwene her grace and 
therle of Anguysshe, she was content therynne, and in other 
causes, to stande to the ord r and arbitrement of the saide 
lordes, on the kinggs party and hers. Wherupon her grace 
sent for me, and, after myche comyunycacon, some parte 
pleasaunt, and some parte to the contrary, it was not possi- 
ble she shulde be better mynded and inclyned thenne she 
was at that tyme, to accepte therle of Anguysshe to her gra- 
cious favo r , for the better relieff of her causes in controversy. 
Notw^tanding, the morrowe after all was torncd to the con- 
trary, booth concernyng the promysc made to the saide 
lordes and the comynnycacon had betwene the quenes grace 
and me, as is afore saide, w c suchc mancr and wordes as I 



APPENDIX. 349 

think not convenient to be written ; and, as the case requir- 
ed, I gave but convenient hearring to the same. 

" And, because these matiers were of gret ymportaunce, 
diverse and sondery tyraes I offered, that my lorde of Cassilles 
and I m ought have goon to have spoken wt the lordes of the 
other party, for the better pacefying of all causes, and spe'al- 
ly the quenes grace wolde not I shulde goe, though therles 
of Arren and Cassilles on her party, and thoder lordes on the 
other party, required the same. 

" These causes and matiers thus depending in controversy, 
w'oute order for reducing of thaym to any good conclusion, 
it was devised and agreed, Cassilles, the bishop of Rosse, 
and the lorde Maxwell, should mete w t tharchbisshop of 
Saint Andrewes, the bisshop of Aburdyne, therle of Argile, 
and the other lordes of the other party and their counsaill, 
as, s r Will" 1 Scott and other, at Dalkeeth aforesaide, on Sa- 
turdaye laste ; and soe thay did, and accorded right well to- 
gader. Howe be it, whenne the quenes party came hoome 
her grace woolde not agre to the comynnycacon, and suche 
ordo r as was devised betwene the lordes. 

" On Sondaye next after newe messingers on the quenes 
party were sent to the saide lordes, to moove unto thaym, 
that her grace was content thay shuld repaire and come 
hider, to trete, speke, and com'yn of the causes in contro- 
versy, soe that thay wolde agre and consent that noe thing 
shulde be doon to the demynuicon of her autoritc, grauntcd 
unto her grace in the laste p'liament, or dies that thay wolde 
consent and agree, that, where as the saide p'liament was 
proroged and contynucd to the xx th day of this moncth, hit 
shulde clerely* for this ty me be dissolved, ccssatc, and an- 
nulled. Whercunto the saide lordes, considering thcr ar 
sondery thinggs besides the quenes saide autoritc, concern- 
yng the wcall and surety of the yong king, and of this his 
rcalmc, to be refourmed, aunsuer also to be n tourncd to 
thair amines' in Englande, by the consent of the gret and 



350 APPENDIX. 

mooste discrete counsaillour of this realme, wolde not accoorde 
nor agre in anywise. Wherupon, th'erles of Arren, Mur- 
ray, Eglynton, and Cassilles, the lorde Maxwell, Dan Carre 
of Cesforth, and Marke Carre, conveyed thair s'unts from 
thaym, and went into the castell to the king and the quene ; 
every of thaym taking w l thaym oon or twoe s'unts at the 
mooste, and ther contynue. 

" The officers of this toune, w* the inhabitants of the 
same, sent woorde to the lordes, that thay shulde come hider 
and be welco'm unto, and furthwith sette thair yets open, 
being afore barred and nightly kept w* watche and warde. 
And soone after mydnight therle of Angusshe and the erle 
of Leneux came into this toune, w l vi or vij hondreth men, 
all at thair pleasurs, and soe did take thair lodgings, and 
went to thair rests. The residue of thair men, as is saide to 
the noumber of twoe thousande, remaynned wt the bishops, 
erls, and other the lordes, at Dalkeeth ; the same men being 
for the moost parte, as is reapoorted, landed men, men of 
good honesty, and househoolde men, well chosen and well 
horsed. Yesterdaye, ageinste night, the saide lordes, and 
other thair company afore saide, came hider, and logged 
themselves in this toune, and nigh therunto, as thay maye 
wtoute the daunger of gunne shotte from oute of the castell, 
and intende to kepe the p'liament for the weall of the yong 
king and of this his realme ; and, as farre as in anywise I 
canne conceive, for a peas to be betwene Englande and Scot- 
lande ; wherof I assure your grace I see moore apperaunce 
hider towarde thenne of the quenes party, considering in 
my poor mynde her counsallo r to be moor of the ffrensh 
facc'on thenne thay be to the favor of Englande ; and yet a 
gret parte of the quenes counsaill be moor inclyned to Eng- 
lande thenne to Fraunce. 

" The quenes grace of late hath been mychc desirous to a 
devorce and dep'ting to be had betwene her saide grace and 
therle of Anguysshc, and hath made many mcancs for the 



APPENDIX. 351 

same purpoose, insomycbe that right lately her grace being 
content to have famylier comynnycacon w* me, shewed she 
wolde be content to geve to the sede erle, of her landes « * 
m'rks scottishe yerely, to suche tyme as her grace shulde ad- 
vaunce some oon of his frends to * * marks of spec'al pro- 
moc'on, soe that there shulde be noe further intermeddling 
betwene thaym, but the oon to be discharged of the other; 
yet, nevertheless the quenes grace even now maketh secret 
moc'ons, after a better and more godly manner, to the saide 
erle, wherunto I am moost privea, I pray God her grace 
wolbe of good p'severaunce, and thenne I woll not doubte 
but other thinggs shall myche the better come to the kinggs 
high purpoos and yours. 

'* Within iiij or v dayes moore, certaine knowledge wolbe 
had to what effecte this trouble and busynes woll ensewe, 
and furthwith I shall advertise your grace of the same, by 
the help of Almighty God, who evermoore have yo r saide 
grace in his mooste blessed preservac'on. At Edinburgh, the 
xviijth daye of February. 

" Your mooste homble prieste and bedeman, 

" T. Magnus." 



QThis letter furnishes a favourable specimen of the force 
and affluence of the Cardinal's style, the comprehension of 
his mind, the justness of his ideas, and the vigour of his in- 
tentions. J. G-3 . 

From Cardinal Wolsey to the King's Ambassadors with 
the Emperor. 

" Mr Sampson and Mr Jermyngham, I commend me unto 
you in my most right hearty manner. Since the arrival here 
of Mr Boleyn, by whom the kings grace hath been adver- 
tised of the state wherein the emperor's matters and affaires 
stood as his departing, is also come hither Mons r de Beaw- 
rayn, sent by the sayd emperor with letters to the kings 



352 APPENDIX. 

grace and me, and also with two instructions ; one concern- 
ing such matters as he had to be spoken of here, and the 
other touching certain benefices to be by him done with the 
duke of G * * a * * e ; the effect of both which instructions 
were taken out and translated into English, and the abstracts 
of the same, for your better knowledge and understands, I 
send unto you herewith. I receyved also, by the sayd Bea- 
wrayn, the letters of you, Mr Sampson, to me directed, the 
effect whereof I shewed unto the kings grace, who, as well 
for your diligent writings at that time, as for other your 
former advertisements, giveth unto you speciall thanks, like 
as I do the semblable, for my parte. And for as much as, 
by the sayd two abstracts, yee shall amply and fully under- 
stand the charge which was co'mitted to Monsr de Beawrayn 
by the two instructions,* I shall, therefore, refer you there- 
unto for your knowledge in that behalfe, advertising you 
that, inasmuch as the sayd Beawrayn might not we would 
make any manner abode here, saying that he must be with 
the sayd duke, at the place prefixed, by the latter end of 
this monthe; a memorial, therefore, was given unto him, 
of certain things which he should doe there on the kings be- 
halfe, till such season as doctor Knight, being ambassiate 
with the lady Margarett, and, consequently, well on his 
way, might with co'mission and instruction, sent unto him 
in diligence, repaire also to the same place, there to be pre- 
sent at the diett and treaty with the sayd duke for the kings 
parte ; which co'mission and instruction, incontinently after 
the departure of the said Mons r dc Beawrayn, were made 
and sent unto D r Knight ; the copy whereof, and also of the 
memorial, in Latyne, given to Beawrayn, yee shall receive 
at this time, soe that, by all the sayd copies, yee shall know 
and undcrstandc the whole proccssc of every thing which 



Sec the instructions from the king. 



APPENDIX. 353 

hath been devised, concluded, and done by the kings grace 
and his counsaile in this behalfe, and how ready and inclined 
his highness is to every such thing as may sound to the fur- 
therance, benefit, and advancemen 1 of the co'mon enterprises 
and affaires. And, in case either the sayd Mons r de Bea- 
wrayn, or the emperors ambassr here resident, had had any 
co'mission or instruction to have treated and concluded with 
the kings grace, upon the nombers, place, tyme, and other 
epecialties concerning the advancement of armies, on either 
side against Ffrance, this summer, and for the putting over 
of the p'sonall invasion, the same had also been fully con- 
cluded and agreed ; nevertheless, all possible diligence is 
used here for preparation, and putting every thing in per- 
fect readines, that shall be requisite for the army to be sent 
out of this realme into Ffrance, soe as, incontinently upon 
knowledge had from you that the emperor hath concluded a 
treaty for that purpose, and that yee se reall and effectuall 
execution of the same, and advancement forward on that 
side, the kings army, withoute tracte of tyme or delay, shall 
be in diligence transported, soe to procecde according to the 
convenc'ons and agreements which shall be passed by you in 
that behalfe. Wherefore, yee shall diligently procure and 
solicite th' emperor to accelerate his resolution therein, if it 
be not done already, as I trust verily it is before this tyme, 
and your letters, dispa'ched hitherwards, contayneing an- 
swere of the same, which, for the more suretie, yee may du- 
plicate, soe as, for lack of knowledge from thence, if any 
misadventure should happen to your first letters, the king's 
grace should not remaine destitute and unprovided of an- 
swere touching the emperor's mynd in the p'misses, without 
which no fruitful thing, except preparation, can be done, 
either concerning invasion to be made this yearc, as is afore- 
sayd, neither also th' effectual execution of the treaty to be 
passed with the sayd duke. And what the kings grace hath 
resolved and done touching the charge of Bcawrayn, yee be- 

z 



354 APPENDIX. 

ing now sufficiently instructed by the said copies, shall, with 
the kings most cordiall and my most humble reco'menda- 
c'ons, shew and declare unto th' emperor, with such doubt- 
ful points as concerne de la Moer, and other suspicions which 
might arise in this matter, as the thing which, though it be 
not very apparent, yet the kings grace, who tendreth th' em- 
peror's honor and weale as much as his owne, would not 
p'termitt to advertise his majesty of any matter that might 
be doubtful and dangerous unto his affaires. 

* " Over this, yee shall shew unto the emperor that, upon 
safe conduct desired by the king of Denmark, and to him 
graunted, he, with the quene his wife, and 100 persons in 
their company, be lately aryved here; when the kings grace, 
as well for the honor of his highnes, and of this his realme, 
as for the allyance which is with the sayd king, by reason of 
the queene his wife, hath, for th' emperors and her love and 
honor, more than for any demonstrac'on of kindness hereto- 
fore shewed by the king of Denmark towards the kings grace 
and this realme, hath receyved and entertayned, in the best 
manner, at the kings charges and expences, from their ar- 
ryval at Calays forward ; since whose coming to the kings 
presence at Greenwiche, where they were for a season lodged 
and feasted, and also since their coming to London, where 
they now be, at Bathes place, all at the kings cost, as afore- 
said, I have, on the kings behalfe, had sundry occas'ons 
with the sayd king of Denmark, upon the cause and occasion 
of his coming hither, perceiving, in effect, by him, that the 
crowne of the realme of Denmark is not descended unto him 
by rightfull succession of inheritance, but by elecc'on, as it 
hath alwayes been accustomed, -f- the prerogative and juris- 



* The following contains the opinion of the Cardin.il and the 
English government on one of the most remarkable incidents of the 
age of Henry VIII. 

+ The constitution of Denmark. 



APPENDIX. 355 

diction of which elecc'on resteth in certain speciall persons 
of the same realme, who, at the request of the late king of 
Denmark, father to this man, passed th' elecc'on of him, in 
his fathers dayes, to succede in the sayd kingdom after his 
tyme, with certaine conditions, whereunto they astringed and 
bound him, for the nonobservance and violation, it should 
be lawful to the same elisors to departe from his obeysance : 
which elecc'on so passed, having, the late old king of Den- 
mark, at that time another son, and being, this king, at the 
time of his said elecc'on, but of xij yeares of age, was, by the 
ffathers persuation, after the death of the sayd other sonne, 
ratified and confirmed.* Howbeit the sayd king affirmeth, 
that the condic'ons were more strange than had been accus- 
tomed to be used in other prinses dayes, whereunto he, in 
that mynority, was nevertheless obliged and bounden, and 
that, for such matters as the said elisors, with other his sub- 
jects, doe alleage against him, sounding to the rupture and 
breach, as they say, of the sayd condic'ons, albeit he was, 
and is contented, if he can be found defective in the same, to 
reforme and amend any thing by him passed ; yet, neverthe- 
les, partly by counsaile of the Duke of Holston, and partly 
by the instigation of the Steds, enemies to the sayd king, the 
sayd elisors have abandoned him, and elected his uncle, the 
sayde duke of Holston, who, with the puissance of his ad- 
herents, soe proceeded against the said king, that, if he had 
not fledd with his wife and children, he and they should (as 
he sayeth) not only have been put in danger of their persons, 
but also he had lost his shipps, ordnance, goods, and sub- 
stance, for which cause he withdrewe himselfe, first towards 
th' emperor's sayd Low Countries, and nowe into Englande, 
to require, demand, and aske of th' emperor, and the kings 
grace, as well help and assistance, as also advise and coun- 



Thc origin of the Danish revolution. 



356 APPENDIX. 

saile. And this is the very cause and manner of his repaire 
hither at this time. Whereupon the kings highnes, for the 
neere connection which the sayd king of Denmark hath with 
th' emperor by marriage of his sister, who is a princesse full 
of good vertues and manners, and whom the kings grace, as 
well for th' emperors sake as for her noble qualities, right 
much doth tender andregarde, hath at good length debated and 
devised upon this matter with me, and other of his counsaile, 
to whom it is thought right strange * that the king of Den- 
mark (as he affirmeth) having divers other great patrymo- 
nies, countries, and places of his inheritance, and otherwise 
faithfull, sure, and true to him, who will at all tymes take 
his parte, ane receyve and obey him as their sovereign lord 
(the names of which countries and places be menc'oned in a 
bill here inclosed), would thus sodainly departe into remote 
and strange parts, whereby the more courage and boldnes 
might be given to his adversaries and enemies, both to per- 
sist in their displeasant mynds towards him, and also to pro- 
voke other of his loving subjects to their devot'on and par- 
tie : whereas, by his presence and ostentation of himselfe, 
they might percase with good pollicy and ayde of his loving 
subjects, have been the more facily vanquished and subdued, 
or, at the least, induced to have changed their purpose. 

" For which cause, upon good deliberation, and often con- 
versac'ons by me had with the sayd king of Denmarke, I 
have advised and counsailed him, in any wise to repaire 
again, with diligence, to such of the sayd countries and 
places remaining in his obeysance, as he shall think expe- 
dient, making his demore and continuance there, for pro- 
curing and labouring such things as may be most beneficial 
to the recovery of the good wills and mynds of the sayd eli- 
sors, lords, and subjects of Denmark, and the reconciliation 
of him unto his enemies. To the furtherance whereof, it is 

* Very sensible conduct of England on this occasion. J. G. 



APPENDIX. 357 

thought that th' emperor, of good congruence and kindness, 
and the kings grace, for gratuity and love, shall put their 
hands by good mediac'on, sending ambassadors and letters, 
both unto the sayd elisors, duke of Holston, and other lords 
of Denmark, which may labour them to resume and take 
again their said kyng, who is contented not only to reforme 
all such things, if any be, as they thinke him to have done 
contrary to the sayd condic'ons, wherein the kings grace will 
take upon him and be bound as his suretie, that he should 
soe doe ; but, also, will utterly remitt and forgive any dis- 
pleasure or attempt which they or his subjects have enter- 
piised, done, or com'itted against him in this his expulsion 
and new election. And, furthermore, meanes may be made 
to the said Steds, who have great priviledges and liberties in 
the emperors and kings regions, that at their contemplation, 
and for their sakes, they will cease from any hostility, war, 
or rancor, against the sayd king, and some amiable composi- 
tion to be made in the differences depending between them. 
All which devise the kings grace w T ill cause his ambassadors, 
resident at the court of Rome, to shew unto the pope's holy- 
ness, to th' intent that the same also may send his breves and 
writings, both to the sayd duke of Holsten, elisors, and other 
of Denmarke, and also to the Steds, for this purpose ; with 
which ambass r expedient it shall be that th' emperors ana- 
bass 1 doe alsoe joine therein ; soe that it is verily trusted 
that th' emperor putting his hands effectually hereunto, as 
of reason and kindnes he must needs doe, the proximity of 
bloud and faire succession descended betweene the said king 
and queene considered, this matter may yet be reduced and 
brought, with labor, help, and pollicy, into good trayne, and 
the sayd king, with Gods grace, by loving and faire meanes, 
restored to his kingdomc, without further violence, warr, or 
effusion of bloud, which waye is meete and expedient to be 
first attempted, and noe further hostilitie to be raised or 
stirred, in 'xpendurc, if it be possible. Nevertheless, if the 



358 APPENDIX. 

same shall in no wise doe profitt or availe unto him, but 
that the Danes and Steds shall remaine obstinate and in 
p'nacity, without conforming themselves to good order and 
reason, then further direction may be taken, for assistance 
to be given unto the sayd king, as wel by the kings grace 
and th' emperor, as by such other princes of Almayne, and 
elsewhere, as be his confederates, lovers, and freends. Where- 
fore yee, shewing and declaring the p'misses, shall procure 
and solicite depeche of such p'sonages and writings as he will 
send for this purpose, which command'mcnt to be given to 
his orator at Rome, to joine with the kings ambassador, as 
is aforesayd ; in which meane time as much shall be done 
by the kings grace as may be possible, for it is a thing farr 
discrepant from good order, reason, or congruence, that a 
prince shall thus, by the wilfulness of his lords and com- 
mons, be expelled and put from his crowne, upon any griev- 
ances by them pretended, specially not being the matters 
first shewed and objected unto him, and his answere heard 
upon the same ; ascertaining you that the sayd king, accept- 
ing marvailous thankfully, and in good parte, this good ad- 
vice and counsaile, the circumstances whereof I have caused 
to be put in articles in Latine, which he singularly liketh, 
is mynded, within four or five daies, to departe, with the 
queene his wife, towards Flanders, where his shippes be in 
rigging, soe to proceede further according to the sayd device ; 
praying you, therefore, to ascertayne me of the emperors an- 
swere and resolution herein, and in all other the p'misses, 
with diligence, as the kings special trust is in you. 

" Post scripta. — Letters be arrived, as well from the bi- 
shop of Bathe, being the kings ambassador at Rome, dated 
there the third day of the last moneth, as also from Mr 
Pace, dated at Venice the first day of the same, the copies of 
which letters, for your better knowledge and information, I 
send you with these presents ; by tenor whereof you shall 
among other things, perceive, how, upon the attachment of 



APPENDIX. 359 

the cardinall Sodormo, the Ffrench king hath revoked his 
ambassadors^ which were on their way towards the popes 
holiness, and that in the court of Rome is neither com'ission 
nor person deputed for the sayd Ffrench king, to treate 
either of peace or truce ; soe as there is noe manner likeli- 
hood, apparence, or towardness, that any thing may or shall, 
at this time, be further done therein, or that the emperor 
and the kings grace shall ground or establish their com'on 
matters thereupon, but substantially to foresee and provide 
for all such things as may concerne the most effectual anoy- 
ance of the com'on enemie. Ye shall further p'ceive by the 
sayd copies, that expectation is to be had of the pope's holy- 
nes, who in noe wise will be induced to condiscend unto 
any treatie offensive against France, respiting also upon the 
successes of the affaires at Venice, to declare and shew his 
resolute mynde, touching his entering into a league defen- 
sive, which wil be the most that he can be induced unto, 
and that not without difficultie ; for which cause, expedient 
it shall be that the king and th' emperor, without further 
tract of time, doe with diligence furnish, provide, and look 
unto their busines, and in suchwise to presse the Ffrench 
king earnestly, and not with small prickings, which, as it 
appeareth, he doth little esteeme, that he may be constrained 
and enforced otherwise to himself, then hitherto he doth be- 
gin. In which matter ye shall declare and shew unto the 
emperor the kings opinion, consisting in two material points. 
The first and greatest thing considered by his grace and his 
counsaile is, that, rememb'ring th' untowardnes and obsty- 
nacie of the sayd Ffrench king, it is now thought expedient, 
by all the meanes and wayes possible, to accelerate the p'sonal 
invasion ; and, for that purpose, to devise how in anywise it 
may be fesible, as well by forbearing and sparing other par- 
ticular charges, which might sound to the delay and im- 
peachment thereof, as otherwise ; for better it shall be once 
to annoy the com'on enemy with great puissances, which he 



360 APPENDIX. 

should not be able to resist, whereby he may be driven to 
offer and come unto reasonable conditions, than thus, by 
dryving the time by little and little, to waste and consume 
treasure, and, in conclusion, no good effect to come thereof : 
wherefore, if th' emperor and king's grace might be furnished 
with money, treasure, and other requisites for a mayne and 
great invasion to be made in their owne p'sons, the sooner 
the same were done, and put in execution, the rather the 
com'on enemy e should be brought and compelled to speak 
of another time, and percase some great and notable victory 
might thereof ensue, to their great honour and profits. Ne- 
vertheles, if, for lack of furniture of money and treasure, th' 
emperor and the kings grace should not inow doe the same 
in their owne p'sons, the next som'er in the yeare next fol- 
lowing, by which time it shalbe seene what the Ffrench king 
will further doe touching peace ; then, it is thought, a way 
might be taken for making of an expedition by lieut'ents, the 
same to invade in such places, taking the yeare before them, 
and with such fforce and puissance as some notable effect 
might ensue thereof, and th' enemy enforced to knowledge 
himselfe : the debating and devising of which matters, by 
com'on consent, might, in the residue of this summer and 
the next winter, be practised, com'enced, and concluded, soe 
that, at the beginning of the next yeare, the same might be 
executed accordingelie, which is thought a more discrete and 
prudent way, and better effect shall ensue thereof, then to 
defer th'enterprises till the som'er be almost spent, as hath 
bene this present yeare, and as they shall and may be fur- 
nished with money, on both sides, for the performance of 
the p'misses, either by invasion in p'son or by lieut'ents. 
Necessary shall it be that mutual frank and plain advertise- 
ment be made thereof, from time to time, to th' intent that 
every thing may procetle to the honor of both princes, an- 
noyance of the com'on enemy, and eschuing of superfluous 
and vaine cxpcnccs as shall app'taine ; for, by such dribb'ing 



APPENDIX. 361 

warr* as yet hitherto hath been made by the sayd princes, 
the com'on enemy is rather exalted, contemming, and little 
or nothing regarding them, then driven to knowledge him- 
self, or come to honest conditions of truce and peace, desir- 
ing the continuance of warr in such manner rather than 
otherwise, supposing therby that the sayd princes shall be 
impoverished, and he little or nothing damaged or annoyed. 
And, in case th' emperor and the kings grace cannot be fur- 
nished neither to invade in their p'sons nor by their lieu- 
t'ents as above, wherein plainnes ought to be used, and all 
dissimulation or concealment layde aparte ; then, by mutual 
counsaile, it must.be devised, how and by what good meanes 
they may come to an honorable peace, for thus to stand and 
continue soe long in warr, without doing any notable da- 
mage to th' enemy, can neither be to their honor, nor en- 
dured by their realmes and subjects. 

u The other matter which the kings grace and his coun- 
saile have special respect unto, is this : yee know the full re- 
solution of his grace touching such things as be to be done 
this yeare, for the answere whereof, and knowledg of th' 
emperors mynde in the same, his highnes looketh to be ad- 
vertised with such diligence, that, giving one months respite 
after the tyme of the sayd answere, assemble and transport 
his army, the same may be entred into th' enemies countries 
by the middest of August at the furthest ; for, as th' em- 
peror may well consider, if, for lack of such knowledg in 
time, the whole month of August should, p'adventure, ex- 
pire before the kings army might be in the field, rayny 
wether then, in September, daily running on, and the army 
intended to be sent unto Boleyn, as yee well know, it should 
not be possible either for the shortnes of time to doe any 
good there, or also, in that fowlc and wet country, to convey 
back again the artillery and ordnance. Whereof, conse- 

* Dribbling war ! 



362 APPENDIX. 

quently, should ensue none other but wast and expenses of 
money, losse of the artillery, and great dishonor ; for which 
cause the Ring's pleasure is, that yee, shewing th' p'misses 
to th' emp r , doe substantially note, whether as well the ar- 
mies to be prepared on that side may be advanced and en- 
tered into the Ffrench kings country before or by the mid- 
dest of August at the farthest ; as, also, that your adver- 
tisem 1 of the same may come in such time as the king's 
army, with the sayd one month's warning, may doe the sem- 
blable on this side : in which case the kings grace is and 
will be right well contented to follow and p'forme the device 
and coica'con had thereupon, for the execution whereof 
nothing, in the meane time, is here p'termitted. Neverthe- 
les, if either the emperors armyes cannot be soe soone ready 
in those parts, or that his resolution be not soe soon taken, 
sent, and here arrived, that, with the sayd one month's 
warning, the king's army, and the other assistance to be sent 
unto them out of th' emperors Low Country s, may be ready in 
the field before middest of August, which is as much or more 
necessary to be done at that time henes, then on that side, 
the strength of the countrie, and the great ordnance requisite 
to be carried, considered. Then it is thought unto the king's 
grace and his counsaile, that better it were to leave and for- 
beare the sending of any such armies this su'mer, and to 
spare the money that should be spent in the same, for the 
sayd p'sonall invasion, then out of time to advance them, 
and with losse, reproaches, and damage, to return them. 
And, in the mean time, th' emperor and the king's grace, 
standing in meere termes of defence, and providing suffi- 
ciently, as well for furniture of their towncs, fortresses, and 
places, as for guarding of the seas with some good and 
mecte shippes, that is to say, th' emperor from the trade 
along the coast of Spaine, and the king from the trade hither, 
and soe to the coast of Flanders, and they to look there to 
the garding of the sayd quarters : sure they may that not 



APPENDIX. 363 

only their countries and subjects shall be well defended, and 
with small charges in comparison of the other, but also the 
comon enemy, in the mean season, the more wearied, fa- 
tigued, and impoverished ; whereby, at the time of the sayd 
p'sonal invasion, they should be of the much better strengthe 
and habilitie to maynetayne themselves for a great space, 
which is requisite to be done if any fruite or good effect 
shall ensue thereof; and to begin in the later end of the 
yeare, when noe tarrying or abode may be to doe any effec- 
tual annoyance to th' enemy. And if p'case it might be 
thought, that this time were most opportune and convenient, 
by reason of the Duke of Hu — e — he — , I doubt not but by 
the time that th' emperor and his couusaile shall have 
groundly pondered and noted the difficulties contayned be- 
fore in these my present letters, which p'adventure before 
were not thought upon, it shall appear that there is not like 
to grow soe great benefit or com'odity thereof as was esteem- 
ed. I require you, therefore, circumspectly and discreetly, 
to handle this matter with the emperor, taking such direc- 
tion, by your prudent demonstrations to be made unto him 
therein, that neither the time in making these sober warrs 
against the enemy be thus longer consumed, but that by th' 
advancement of the sayd p'sonall invasion, this next yeare 
he may be earnestly handled, .as is aforesayd; nor also, 
that the enterprises to be done this som'er be soe lately by 
you there concluded, that for lack of knowledg in the time 
before limited, the king's grace be driven to advance his 
army, and people spend his money and time in vayne, and 
consequently noe good done, but rather reproache, losse, and 
damage to be sustayned. And of the emperor's resoluc'on 
in all and singular the p'missc, with such other knowledge 
and successes as shall occur in the mean season, I praye you 
diligently to advertise me from time to time, as the king's 
grace specially trusteth you. 

" And were in sundry former letters and instructions 



364 APPENDIX. 

given unto Mr Boleyn and you Mr Sampson, yee were com- 
manded to solicite and procure the speedy sending into these 
narrow seas of an army of 3000 men ; which thing the king's 
grace moved and desired, only because at that time the 
French king prepared a great and puissant army to have 
bene sett to the sea, intending, if he might, to have been 
lord of the same ; inasmuch as the same French king, upon 
knowledg had of the king^s army by see, put in readynes, 
which he saw well he was not able to countervaile, hath 
nowe left of the setting forth and advancement of his sayd 
great army, not being mynded, as far as the king's grace 
can learne, to send out the same this yeare. The king's 
highnes, therefore, having as great respect to the saving of 
th' emperor's charges as of his owne, and rather more, being 
mynded to further every thing that may be to the determina- 
c'on of the sayd charges, soe as thereby they may be the 
more able to make the sayd p'sonall invasion, willeth, that 
yee shall show unto his majestie, that for the sayd consider- 
ations he shall not neede to put himselfe to charge at this 
time for sending of the said 3000 men, but only to provide 
for the garding of those seas from the trade along the coast 
of Spaine, as is aforesayd, soe as the merchants and subjects 
of both princes and other their friends may passe to and 
from out of danger as shall appertaine. And hartily fare 
yee well. At my place besides Westminster, the 3d day of 
July. 

" Your loving friende, 

u T. Carlis. Edok. 
" To my loving frende, Mr Rich. Sampson, 

deane of the king's chappie, and Sir 

Richd. Jernyngham, knight, and king's 

counsellors and ambassadors with the 

emperor." 



APPENDIX. 365 

From Lord Surrey to Cardinal Wolsey. 

" Plesith it y r . grace to be adv'tised; that upon Fridaye, 
at x a cl'k. at nyght, I reto'ned to this towne, and all the 
garrisons to their placs assigned, the bishoprick men, my 
lorde of Westm'land, and my lord Dacre, in likewise ev'y 
man home w*. their companys wtout los of any men, thanked 
be God, saving viij or x slayne, and dyvers hurt at skyr- 
mishes, and saults of the towne of Gedwurth and the for- 
tresses, whiche towne is soo severly bernt, that noo garrisons 
ner none other shal be lodged there unto the tyme it be 
newe buylded ; the burnyng therof I comytted to two sure 
men, S r . Will™. Bulm' and Thomas Tempeste. 

" The towne was moche better then I wot it had been, 
for ther was twoo tymys moor howses therin then in Ber- 
wik, and well buylded, w*. many honest and faire howses 
therein sufficiente to have lodged . . horsemen in garryson, 
and six good towres therein, whiche towne and towres bee 
clerely distroyed, bernt, and throwen down. Undoubtedly 
ther was noo ro'rnen made into Scotland, in noo manys day 
living, w l . soo fewe a nombre, that is recownted to bee soo 
high an enterprice as this, bothe w fc . thies contremen and 
Scottishmen, nor of truthe soo moche hurt doon ; but in th' 
ende a great mysfortune did fall onely by foly that suche 
ordre as was com'aunded by me to be kepte was not ob- 
served, the maner whereof hereafter shall ensue. 

" Before myn entre into Scotland, I appointed sir W m . 
Bulmer for the vangard, and sir W m . Evers for the reregard. 
In the vangard, I appointed my lorde of Westmoreland as 
chief w*. all the bishopricke, sir W m . Bulm', sir W m . Overs, 
my lord Dacre, w 1 . all his company, and w 1 . me remayned 
all the rest of the garrysons and the Northumberland men. 
I was of counsaile w l the m'shallis at thordering of o r . lodg- 
ing ; and o r . camp was soo well envirowned \v e . ordynancc 
carts and diks, that hard it was to entre or issue but at cer- 



366 APPENDIX. 

tain placs appointed for that purpos ; and assigned the mooste 
commodious place of the said campe for ray lord Dacre com- 
pany next the water, and next my lorde of Westm'land; 
and at suche tyme as my lord Dacre came into the field, I 
being at the sault of Thabby, whiche contynued unto twoo 
houres w 4 in nyght, my said lord Dacre would in nowise bee 
contente to ly w l in the campe, whiche was made right sure, 
but lodged himself w*out, wherew*. at my retorne I was not 
contente; but then it was to late to remove. The next day 
I sent my lord Dacre to a strong hold called Fernherst, the 
lord whereof was his mortall enemy, and w fc . hym sir Arthur 
Daren, sir Marmaduke Constable, wt. vijc of their men, one 
co'tonte, and dyvers other good pecs of ordynance for the feld. 
The said Fernherst stode m'velous strongly w*in a great woode. 
The said twoo kights, w*. the most pte of their men, and Strik- 
land, yo r . graces xxxx, w*. iij c . Kendall men, went into the 
woode on fote, wt. ordyn'nce, where the said Kendall men were 
soo handled, that they found hardy men that were not foote 
bak for theym. The other twoo knights were alsoo soo 
sharply assayled, that they were enforced to call for moo of 
their men, and yet could not bring thordyn'nce to the for- 
tresse, unto the tyme my lord Dacre, w*. part of his horsemen, 
lighted on fote, and m'velously herdly hymself handled ; 
and, fynally, w fc . long skyrmyshing, and moche difficultie, 
got forthe thordyn'ce, wan the howse, and threwe downe the 
same ; at which skyrmyshe my said lorde Dacre, and his 
brother sir Chris tofer, and sir Arthure and sir Marmaduke, 
and many other gentilmen, did m'velously hardly, and found 
the best resistence that hath be seen . since my comyng to 
thies p'ties, and above xxx * Scottis slayne, and not passing 
iiij Englishmen, but about lx hurt. After that, my said 
lord, retorning to the campe, wold in nowise be lodged in 
the same, but where he laye the first night ; and he being 
wt. me at soup', about viij a clok, the horses of his company 
brak lowse, and sodenty ran out of his feld, in suche nombrc 



APPENDIX. 367 

that it caused a m'velous alarvme in or. feld ; and, o r . stand- 
yng watche beine set, the horses com ronnyng along the 
campe, at whom were shot above one hundred sheif of ar- 
rowes, and dyvers gonnys, thinking they had been Scotts 
that wold have saulted the campe ; fynally, the horses were 
soo madde, that they ran like wilde dere into the felde 
above xx at the leest in dyv's companys ; and, in one place, 
above 1 fell downe a great rok, and slewe theraelfes, and 
above ij*l ran into the towne being on fire, and by the 
women taken and carried away right evill bernt, and many 
were taken agayne ; but, finally, by that I can esteme, by 
the nombre of theym that I sawe goo on fote the next daye, 
I think there is lost above * * horses, and all w*. foly, for 
lack of not lying w*in the campe. I dare not write the won- 
dres that my lord Dacre and all his company doo saye they 
sawe that nyght vi tymys of sprits and fereful sights ; and 
unyv'sally all their company saye playnly the devil was that 
nyght amongs theym vi tymys, whiche mysfortune hath 
blemyshed the best w'men that was made in Scotland many 
yeres. I assure yor. grace I found the Scottes at this tyme 
the boldest and the hotest that ev r . I sawe any nacion. And 
all the rem'dr, upon all pts of tharmy kepte us wt. so con- 
tynuall skyrmyshe, that I nev r . sawe the like, if they myght 
assemble . . as good men as I nowe sawe . . or . . it wold bee 
an herd encoyntre to mete theym. Pitie it is of my lord 
Dacres losse of the horses of his company : he brought w l . 
him above . . . men, and came and lodged one night in Scot- 
land in his most mortall enemys contre. Ther is noo herdyer 
ner bettir knight ; but often tymes he doth not use the most 
sure ordre, which he hathe nowe payed deerly for. Writ- 
ten at Berwike, the xxvij th of Septembre. 
u Yrs. most bownden, 

" T. Surrey." 



368 APPENDIX. 



Cardinal Wolsey to the Bishop of London and Sir Richard 
Wingjield, Knt. Ambassadors in Spain. 

[[Orthography modernized by J. G.] 

April 7, 1525. 
" My lord of London and Mr Wingfield, I commend me 
unto you in my right hearty manner. Since your departure 
from hence arrived here a servant of the emperor, sent out 
of Spain with letters to ambassador de Praet, having order 
given unto him, as he affirmed, incontinently to pass unto 
the lady Margaret. At the despatch of him out of Spain 
there was no knowledge of the battle stricken in Italy ; but, 
as I may predict by relation of the president of Malams, 
whom by good means I caused to disclose more of his secrets 
unto me than the lord Be vers hath or would do. He said 
letters sent unto de Praet mentioned the emperor's desire, 
that for as much as the French king at that time was in 
Italy, and to drive him out of the same the kings highness 
would invade on this side, offering to advance into the parts 
of Narbonne, on the other side, an army which should be of 
eight hundred of arms, five hundred light horse, seven thou- 
sand Spaniards, and four thousand Almains, besides the pea- 
sants, with artillery and ordnance requisite for the same. 
And that he would maintain, entertain, and continue his 
army in Italy, under the leading of the Duke of Bourbon 
and the viceroy, at his own proper costs and charges ; and 
over the same would give aid to the king of three thousand 
footmen, and one thousand horsemen, out of his low coun- 
tries. Notwithstanding this, the emperor's determination 
signified to Mons. de Praet, yet I perceive that his ambassa- 
dors here resident would first have advertised the lady Mar- 
garet hereof, before the king's highness or I should have had 
any knowledge of the same ; to the intent, that whosoever 
should be concluded herein, she might have all or a great 
7 



APPENDIX. 369 

part of the thanks. Which manner of proceeding I by good 
means have discovered out of the Said president apart. To 
whom I said, that if ray lady Margaret will look to have any 
thank in this behalf, wherein as yet hitherto she hath little 
or none deserved, but all that is offered is to be ascribed unto 
the emperor, it shall be well done that she increase the 
number of three thousand footmen to four thousand, and 
the one thousand horsemen to three thousand ; and, so do- 
ing, she shall deserve special thank, advising him and his 
colleagues, therefore, to solicit the same. And albeit he 
though my lady Margaret might at length be induced 
thereunto, yet he thought it would be difficile for them 
to pass with their said aid into any part of Normandy, 
being so far distant from their frontiers. For avoiding 
of which difficulty I tould him, that percase the king 
would personally descend at Calais with a right good 
part of his army, sending the residue by sea, to make 
them enter into Normandy ; and for so doing, me thought 
they could not of reason make any difficulty, but that 
their said aid should join with the kings highness and 
army in his marches of Calais ; and so to pass into such 
places as should be thought unto his grace convenient. 
Which overture, as I could perceive, not only contented 
him, but he promised with all diligence to advertise the lady 
of the same, not doubting but he should have shortly from 
her upon the premises a good resolution. Of all which the 
emperor's offers and occasion aforesaid I thought convenient 
to advertise you, to the intent you might perceive how be- 
fore the battle stricken the emperor was inclined and dis- 
posed. 

" Over this there was a clause omitted in your instruc- 
tions, which is to declare the king's mind, in case the em- 
peror being contented on this resolution to invade Italy in 

his own person, will say it should be from «^ood 

U A 



370 APPENDIX. 

conscience to charge him also with entertainment of the 
Duke of Bourbon. Nevertheless, you know that by mouth 
it was agreed and thought good, that in such case, that if 
the emperor could in no wise be induced to the said enter- 
tainment, the Duke of Bourbon should repair unto the said 
aid of the Low Countries, to have the leading thereof; the 
same to be in that case somewhat reinforced and increased 
to a greater number, as to good reason and congruence doth 
appertain. Which matter, in case of the emperor's invasion, 
ye shall set forth in degrees ; that is to say, first, the emper- 
or to contribute half to the entertainment of the said duke, 
and the king's grace the other half; so as always the moiety 
to be borne by the king's grace may be defalked of such mo« 
ney as is due by the emperor unto the king's highness. Se- 
condly, this failing, the king's grace, rather than fail, to 
bear the whole 300,000 crowns last lent unto the emperor, 
his majesty supporting the rest ; and the same to be paid by 
the emperor in deduction of the said debt. And, finally, 
none of these then to come unto the repair of the said duke 
to the army in the Low Countries, as is aforesaid. 

<f Finally, I send unto you herewith all the commissions, 
letters, and copies, that were devised for your dispatch ; with 
those of the king's, the queen's, and mine own hand. And 
also an emerald, which my lady princess sendeth to the em- 
peror, whose most humble and cordial recommendations 
made unto the same, you at the delivery thereof shall say, 
that her grace hath devised this token for a better knowledge 
to be had when God shall send them grace to be together, 
whether his majesty do keep himself as continent and chaste 
as with God's grace she will. Whereby, you may say, his 
majesty may see, that her assured love towards the same 
hath already such a passion in her, that it is also confirmed 
by jealousy, being one of the greatest signs and tokens of 
hearty love and cordial affection. And thus I beseech Al- 



APPENDIX. 371 

mighty God to send you good speed and passage. At ray 
palace beside Westminster, the third day of April, 1525. 
u Your loving friend, 

" T. Carles, Ebor. 
" To my loving friends, my Lord 
Privy Seal, and Sir Richard 
Wingfield, Knight of the Or- 
der, the King's Ambassadors to 
the Emperor." 



372 



BOOK V. 



ALCHEMY. 

A friend having remarked to me, that the note on alchemy 
would have been more complete had I quoted a few of the 
best authenticated cases of transmutation, I am induced to 
resume the subject here. But I request the reader to re- 
member that I am only acting as a historian ; of chemistry 
I am very ignorant, and of the scientific probability or im- 
probability of transmutation I am no judge. 

In the year 1680, a translation was published in London 
of a very curious and amusing story, entitled, " The Truth of 
the Philosopher s Stone asserted, having been lately exposed to 
public Sight and Sale, being a true and exact Account of the 
Manner how Wenceslaus Seilerus, the late famous Projection 
Maker at the Emperors Court at Vienna, come by and made 
away with a great Quantity of Powder of Projection, by pro- 
jecting with it before the Emperor and a Thousand Witnesses, 
selling it, fyc. for some Years past Published at the Request 
and for the Satisfaction of several Curious and Ingenious, espe- 
cially of Mr Boyle, $r. By one, who was ?wt only an Eye- 
ivitness in the Affair, but also concerned as a Commissioner by 
the Emperor for the Examen of it" The story of Winceslaus 
is told in a lively and pleasant manner, from his discovery 
of the powder accidentally in a monastery in Bruna, in Mo- 
ravia, till his arrival at the Imperial court. The whole is 
indeed romantic, and in several points not admissable to cre- 
dit ; but what has made me refer to the work, is a notice in 



APPENDIX. 373 

the preface, that Prince Rupert was a witness to a transmuta- 
tion by projection at Frankfort ; and did not question the 
fairness of the experiment, but only observed, that he doubted 
if the powder could be prepared with profit. The translator 
mentions, among other living persons who had been wit- 
nesses of the effects of Winceslaus' powder, Count Walles- 
tine, and Dr Becher, then in London. 

John Wolfgan Dienheim, M.D. and professor at Friburgh, 
mentions, that Alexander Seton, a Scotchman, born in the 
isle of Mull, and who was alive in 1603, transmuted metals 
in different parts of Germany. Sendivogius, who ranks very 
high as an alchemical author, Dr Soldner says, married the 
widow of this Seton, and obtained, along with some of the 
red medicine, many of the alchemist's MSS., which he pub- 
lished as his own works. Dr Agricola of Leipsic, in his 
" Commentary on Poppius," page 257, says, that he had 
seen transmutation performed by a monk in a convent in 
Italy, who transmuted 2 lbs. of lead into pure gold with a 
single grain of powder. He also asserts that, in 1600, he 
saw at Saltzburgh an Englishman (possibly Seton) trans- 
mute a quantity of tin into pure gold, which he himself sent 
to the mint and had coined into ducats. Markof, in his 
" Epistle to Langelottus," p. 152, says, i( It is universally 
known that Edward Kelli transmuted metals into gold in 
the presence of the Emperor Rodolphus, and also at Prague 
in the house of Thaddeus Haggecius, as you may read in 
Gassendus' Book of Metals, chap, vii." The history of Sir 
Edward Kelly is similar, in some respects, to that of Win- 
ceslaus. It is reported, that he, with Dr Dee, were so 
strangely fortunate, " as to find a very large quantity of the 
elixir in some part of the ruins of Glastonbury-abbey, which 
was so incredibly rich in virtue (being 1 upon 272,330), that 
they lost much in making projection, by way of trial, before 
they found out the true height of the medicine." — Theatrum 
Chemicum liritanriicmii, page 181, edit. 1652. 



374 APPENDIX. 

Sansimon, who was a tutor to the Duke d'Enghien, son 
of the Prince of Conde, when he was sent to Brussels, in 
1648, had a powder lent to him, which, by infusion in 
water, gave the water the power of converting crude mercury 
into an aborification of pure silver ; so says Olaus Borrichius. 
In the reign of Louis XIII., a man of the name of Dubois 
inherited from the heirs of the wife of the celebrated Flamel 
a small portion of his gold-making powder, with which he 
made an experiment on lead before the king and Cardinal 
Richelieu, pretending that he had himself discovered the art. 
Not, however, being able to verify his boast, and his powder 
being exhausted, the Cardinal ordered him to be hanged as 
an impostor. 

But the case of Dr Price of Guilford, in the year 1782, is 
the most remarkable of all ; and I feel no small degree of sa- 
tisfaction in being able to throw some light on that very cu- 
rious transaction. I quote from his own pamphlet the names 
of the witnesses who were present at his seven different pro- 
jections. — 1st experiment : present, the Rev. Mr Anderson, 
a clergyman residing near Guilford, himself an experimen- 
tal philosopher ; the celebrated antiquary, Captain Grose, a 
man of eminent shrewdness; Ensign Grose; Mr Russel, a 
magistrate of Guilford. — 2d experiment : Sir Philip Norton 
Clarke, Dr Spence, the Rev. Mr Anderson, Captain Grose, 
Mr Russel, and Ensign Grose.— 3d experiment : Mr Ander- 
son, Captain and Ensign Grose, and Mr Russell.— 4th expe- 
riment : the same persons.— 5th experiment : the same per- 
sons, with the addition of Mr J. D. Garthwit— 6th experi- 
ment : Sir P. N. Clarke, Rev. B. Anderson, Captain Grose, 
Dr Spence, Ensign Grose, Mr Hallamby, Rev. Mr Man- 
ning, Mr Fulham, Mr Anderson, Mr Robeson, and Dr 
Spence. — 7th experiment : Lord Onslow, Lord King, Lord 
Palmerston, Sir Robert Barker, Sir P. N. Clarke, Mr Man- 
ning, Mr Anderson, G. Pollen, J. Robeson, Dr Spence, Wil- 
liam Mann Godschall, William Smith, Mr Godschall, jun., 



APPENDIX. 375 

Mr Gregory, and Mr Russell. Several of these gentlemen 
may still be alive ; they were all at the time when Dr Price 
published his pamphlet. He had the white and red powder, 
by the projection of either of which upon mercury, a greater 
miracle than mere transmutation was produced ; mercury 
being kept in a red heat, even a white heat, without either 
boiling or evaporating ! Part of the mercury was found 
changed into gold or silver, according to the powder em- 
ployed, in the proportion of twenty to one of the powder 
employed, and sometimes even as high as fifty to one. There 
is no doubt whatever that Price practised some duplicity. In 
his preface, he insinuates that he made the powders himself. 
I have heard from one quarter, that he had stated to one 
of his friends that the powder cost him £17 sterling per 
ounce, but whether in its manufacture or purchase, the 
gentleman who heard this, and told me, could not say.— 
But what I have now to mention is certainly singular. A 
friend of my own, who had his information from a person 
acquainted with Dr Price, and who assisted him in some 
private experiments, told me, that Price confessed to that 
person that he had obtained the powders from a foreign 
gentleman's valet, whom he met with in the Orange coffee- 
house in the Haymarket ; that he gave the valet a present of 
sixty pounds in consequence ; that next day the valet left town 
for Dover, and in three days after his master also quitted Lon- 
don ; that the valet was singularly well educated, and exacted 
from Dr Price a most solemn promise never to make a public 
experiment with either of the powders. The words that 
Price used after stating this incident were, " I am sorry that 
I transgressed in this essential point of my promise ; but it 
is now too late to repent" The cause and circumstance of 
the doctor's death is well known. 

In the " Memoirs of Huet," translated by Dr Aikin, page 
26, there is an account of a transmutation of metal not dis- 
similar to some of those which are mentioned in other 



376 APPENDIX. 

works. I have to add, in addition to these, that I am ac- 
quainted with a gentleman, who has assured me, in the 
most solemn manner, that some years ago, while he resided 
in Dublin, he obtained a small quantity of the white powder 
from a friend who had remarked his incredulity of transmu- 
tation, by which he converted a quantity of mercury into a 
piece of silver, which he submitted to be assayed, and it was 
found pure and good. 

But the art of the alchemists was not confined to the 
transmutation of metals ; some of their experiments were 
of the opposite kind, as I find by a short pamphlet before me, 
entitled, f.f An Historical Account of a Degradation of Gold 
made by an Anti-elixir ; a strange Chemical Narrative, by the 
Hon'ble Robert Boyle, 2d Edition, 1739." I should mention 
here, that Boyle's alchemical designation was Pyrophilus. — 
N.B. I had somehow been led to believe, that Professor 
Davy's discoveries had extended to the power of degrading 
some of the metals, but I find that I have been misinformed. 



377 



BOOK VI. 



Burnet and Fiddes have published so many of the princi- 
pal documents relative to the divorce of Henry and Katha- 
rine, that I think it would be superfluous to trouble the pub- 
lic with any more. The following original letter from the 
Queen to the Princess Mary serves to illustrate the simplicity 
and domestic character of her mind. I have added a letter 
from Anne Bullen to the Cardinal. 

Queen Katharine to the Princess Mary. 

Daughter, — I pray you think not any forgetfulness hath 
compelled me to keep J. Garles so long from you, and an 
answer to your good letter ; for the which I pray ye would 
know how I do. I am in that case, that the long absence of 
the king and you troubleth me. My health is meetly good, 
and I trust in God he that sent me the last doth it to the 
best, and will shortly cause the first to come to good effect. 
And, in the meantime, I am very glad to hear from you, 
specially when they show me that you are well amended. I 
pray God to continue it to his pleasure. As for your writ- 
ing in Latin, I am glad that ye shall maister 

Federston ; for that shall do you much good to learn by him 
to write right. And yet sometimes I would be glad when 
ye do write to maister Federston of your own inditing, when 



378 APPENDIX. 

he hath read it that I may see it ; for it shall be a great 
comfort to me to see you keep your Latin and fair writing. 
And so I pray you to recommend me to my lady of Salis- 
bury. At Obone (Holborn) this Friday night. 
Your loving mother, 

Katharine the Queen. 



Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey. 

My Lord, — After my most humble commendations, this 
shall be to give unto your grace, as I am most bound, my 
humble thanks, for the great pain and travail that your 
grace doth take, in studying, by your wisdom and great de- 
signs, how to bring to pass honourably the greatest wealth 
that is possible to come to any creature living ; and in espe- 
cial remembering how wretched and unworthy I am in com- 
paring to his highness. And for you, I do know myself ne- 
ver to have deserved by my deserts that you should take this 
great pain for me ; yet daily of your goodness I do perceive 
by all my friends ; and though that I had not knowledge by 
them, the daily proof of your deeds doth declare your words 
and writings toward me to be true. Now, good my lord, your 
discretion may consider as yet how little it is in my power 
to recompense you, but alonely with my good will; the 
which I assure you, that after this matter is brought to pass, 
you shall find me as I am (bound in the meantime to owe 
you my service) ; and then, look what thing in this world I 
can imagine to do you pleasure in, you shall find me the 
gladdest woman in the world to do it ; and, next unto the 
king's grace, of one thing I make you full promise to be as- 
sured to have, and that is, my hearty love, unfeigncdly, dur- 
ing my life ; and being fully determined, with God's grace, 
never to change this purpose, I make an end of this my rude 



APPENDIX. 379 

and true meaned letter, praying our Lord to send you much 
increase of honour with long life. Written with the hand 
of her that beseeches your grace to accept this letter as pro- 
ceeding from one that is most bound to be 

Your humble and obedient servant, 

Anne Boleyn. 



360 



BOOK VII, 



In order to justify the opinion that I have expressed of 
the articles of impeachment against the Cardinal, it is neces- 
sary to republish them. 

Articles of Impeachment exhibited against Cardinal Wolscy. 
Modernized by Lord Herbert of Cherbury. 

I. Where your grace and noble progenitors within this 
realm of England, being kings of England, have been so 
free, that they have had in all the world no other sovereign, 
but immediately subject to Almighty God in all things 
touching the regality of your crown of England, and the 
same pre-eminence, prerogative, jurisdiction, lawfull and 
peaceable possession, your grace and noble progenitors have 
had, used, and enjoyed, without interruption of business, 
therefore by the space of two hundred years and more ; 
whereby your grace may prescribe against the pope's holy- 
ness, that he shou'd not, nor ought not to send or make any 
legate, to execute any authority legantine, contrary to your 
grace's prerogative within this your realm : now the lord 
cardinal of York, being your subject, and natural liege born, 
hath of his high orgullows and insatiable mind, for his own 
singular advancement and profit, in derogation and to the 
great emblemishment and hurt of your said royal jurisdic- 
tion and prerogative, and the long continuance of the pos- 



APPENDIX. 381 

session of the same, obtained authority legatine : by reason 
whereof he has not only hurt your said prescription, 
but also, by the said authority legantine, hath spoil'd and 
taken away from many houses of religion, within this your 
realm, much substance of their goods, and also hath usurp'd 
upon all your ordinaries, within this your realm, much part 
of their jurisdiction, in derogation of your prerogative, and 
to the great hurt of your said ordinaries, prelates, and re- 
ligious. 

2. Also the said lord cardinal, being your ambassador in 
France, made a treaty with the French king for the pope, 
your majesty not knowing any part thereof, nor named in 
the same ; and binding the said French king to abide his 
order and awarde, if any controversy or doubt shou'd arise 
upon the same betwixt the said pope and the French king. 

3. Also the said lord cardinal, being your ambassador in 
France, sent a commission to Sir Gregory de Cassalis, under 
your great seal, in your grace's name, to conclude a treaty of 
amity with the Duke of Ferrara; without any command- 
ment or warrant of your highness, nor your said highness 
advertis'd or made privy to the same. 

4. Also the said lord cardinal, of his presumptuous mind, 
in divers and many of his letters and instructions, sent out 
of this realm to outward parts, had joyn'd himself with your 
grace, as in saying and writing, " The king and I wou'd ye 
should do thus ; the king and I do give unto you our hearty 
thanks :" whereby it is apparent that he us'd himself more 
like a fellow to your highness than like a subject. 

5. Also where it hath ever been accustom 'd within this 
realm, that when noblemen do swear their household ser- 
vants, the first part of their oatli hath been, that they shou'd 
be true liege men to the king, and his heirs kings of Eng- 
land; the same lord cardinal caus'd his servants to be only 
sworn to him, as if there had been no sovereign above him. 

0. And also, whereas your grace is our sovereign lord and 



382 APPENDIX. 

head, in whom standeth all the surety and wealth of this 
realm ; the same lord cardinal, knowing himself to have 
the fowl and contagious disease of the great pox broken out 
upon him in divers places of his body, came dayly to your 
grace, rownding in your ears, and blowing upon your most 
noble grace with his perilous and infective breath, to the 
marvellous danger of your highness, if God of his infinite 
goodness had not better provided for your highness; and 
when he was once healed of them, he made your grace to 
believe, that his disease was an impostume in his head, and 
no other thing. 

7. Also the said lord cardinal, by his authority legatine, 
hath given by prevention the benefices of divers persons, as 
well spiritual and temporal, contrary to your crown and dig- 
nity, and your laws and statutes therefore provided ; by rea- 
son whereof, he is in danger to your grace of forfeiture of 
his lands and goods, and his body at your pleasure. 

8. Also the lord cardinal, taking upon him otherwise 
than a true counsellor ought to do, hath us'd to have all 
embassadors come first to him alone, and so hearing their 
charges and intents, 'tis to be thought he hath instructed 
them after his pleasure and purpose, before that they came 
to your presence, contrary to your high commandment by 
vour grace's mouth to him given, and also to other persons 
sent to him by your grace. 

9. And also the lord cardinal hath practis'd so, that all 
manner of letters sent from beyond the sea to your highness 
hath come first to his hands, contrary to your high com- 
mandment by your own mouth, and also by others sent to 
him by your grace ; by reason whereof your highness, nor 
any of your council, had knowledge of no matters but of 
such as it pleased him to shew them ; whereby your high- 
ness and council have been compelled, of very force, to follow 
his devices, which oftentimes were set forth by him under 
such crafty and covert meanings, that your highness and 



APPENDIX. 383 

your council have oftentimes been abus'd, insomuch that 
when your council have found and put divers doubts and 
things, which afterwards have ensued ; he, to abuse them, 
used these words, u I will lay my head that no such thing 
shall happen." 

10. And the said lord cardinal hath practis'd, that no 
manner of persons, having charge to make espial of things 
done beyond the sea, should, at their return, come first to 
your grace, nor to any other of your council, but only to 
himself; and in case they did the contrary, he punish'd 
them there for so doing. 

11. Also the said lord cardinal hath granted licenses un- 
der your great seal for carrying out of grain and other 
victuals, after the restraint hath been made thereof, for Ins 
own lucre and singular advantage of him and his servants, 
for to send thither, as he bare secret favour^ without your 
grace's warrant or knowledge thereof. 

12. Also the said lord cardinal us'd many years together, 
not only to write unto all your embassadors resident with 
other princes in his own name, all advertisements concerning 
your grace's affairs being in their charge ; and, in the same 
his letters, wrote many things of his own mind, without 
your grace's pleasure known, concealing divers things which 
had been necessary for them to know ; but also caus'd them 
to write their advertisements unto him ; and of the same 
letters he us'd to conceal, for the compassing of his purpose, 
many things both from all your other counsellors and from 
yourself also. 

13. And where good hospitals hath been us'd to be kept 
in houses and places of religion of this realme, and many 
poor people thereby relieved, the said hospitality and relief 
is now decay 'd and not us'd ; and it is commonly reported 
that the occasion thereof is, because the said lord cardinal 
hath taken such impositions of the rulers of the said houses, 



384 APPENDIX. 

as well for his favour in making of abbots and priors, as for 
his visitation by his authority legantine ; and yet nevertheless 
taketh yearly of such religious houses such yearly and con- 
tinual charges, as they be not able to keep hospitality as they 
were used to do ; which is a great cause that there be so 
many vagabonds, beggars, and thieves. 

14. And where the same said lord cardinal said, before 
the suppression of such houses as he hath suppress'd, that 
the possessions of them should be sett to farm among your 
lay subjects, after such reasonable yearly rent as they shou'd 
well thereupon live and keep good hospitality ; now the de- 
mesne possession of the same houses since the suppression of 
them hath been survey 'd, mete, and measur'd by the acre, 
and be now set above the value of the old rent ; and also 
such as were farmers by covent seal and copyholders be put 
out and amoved of their farms, or else compell'd to pay new 
fine, contrary to all equity and conscience. 

15. Also the said lord cardinal, sitting among the lords 
and others of your most honourable privy council, used him- 
self, that if any man wou'd shew his mind, according to his 
duty, contrary to the opinion of the said cardinal, he would 
so take him up with his accustomable words, that they were 
better to hold their peace than to speak, so that he would 
hear no man speak but one or two great personages, so that 
he would have all the words himself, and consum'd much 
time with a fair tale. 

16. Also the said lord cardinal, by his ambition and 
pride, hath hinder'd and undone many of your poor subjects 
for want of dispatchment of matters, for he wou'd no man 
should meddle but himself; insomuch that it hath been af- 
firmed by many wise men, that ten of the most wise and 
most expert men in England were not sufficient in conve- 
nient time to order the matters that he wou'd retain to him- 
self ; and many times he defeir'd the ending of matters, be- 



APPENDIX. 385 

cause that suiters shou'd attend and wait upon him, whereof 
he had no small pleasure, that his house might be replenish'd 
with suiters. 

17. Also the said lord cardinal, by his authority lega- 
tine, hath us'd, if any spiritual man having any riches or 
substance, deceas'd, he hath taken their goods as his own, by 
reason whereof their wills be not perform'd ; and one mean 
he had to put them in fear that were made executors to re- 
fuse to meddle. 

18. Also the said lord cardinal constrain'd all ordinaries 
in England yearly to compound with him, or else he will 
usurp half or the whole of their jurisdiction by prevention, 
not for good order of the diocess, but to extort treasure ; for 
there is never a poor archdeacon in England, but that he 
paid yearly to him a portion of his living. 

19. Also the said lord cardinal hath not only by his un- 
true suggestion to the pope shamefully slander'd many good 
religious houses, and good virtuous men dwelling in them, 
but also suppress'd, by reason thereof, above thirty houses 
of religion. And where by authority of this bull, he shou'd 
not suppress any house that had more men of religion in 
number, above the number of six or seven, he hath sup- 
press'd divers houses that had above the number ; and there- 
upon hath caus'd divers offices to be found by verdict un- 
truly, that the religious persons so suppress'd had voluntarily 
forsaken their said houses, which was untrue, and so hath 
caus'd open perjury to be committed, to the high displeasure 
of Almighty God. 

20. Also the said lord cardinal hath examin'd diverse and 
many matters in the Chancery, after judgment thereof given 
at the common law, in subversion of your laws, and made 
some persons restore again to the other party condcnm'd 
that they had in execution by virtue of the judgment of the 
common law. 

91. Also the said lord cardinal hath granted many injunc- 

2 i: 



386 APPENDIX. 

tions by writt, and the parties never call'd thereunto, nor 
bill put in against them ; and by reason thereof divers of 
your subjects have been put from their lawfull possession of 
their lands and tenements. And by such means he hath 
brought the more party of the suiters of this your realm be- 
fore himself; whereby he and divers of his servants hath 
gotten much riches, and your subjects suffer'd great wrongs. 

22. Also the said lord cardinal, to augment his great 
riches, hath caus'd divers pardons granted by the pope to be 
suspended, which cou'd not be reviv'd till the said lord car- 
dinal was rewarded, and also had a yearly pension of the 
said pardon. 

23. Also the said lord cardinal, not regarding your laws 
nor justice, of his extort power hath put out divers and 
many farmers of his lands, and also patentees of the arch- 
bishoprick of York and of the bishoprick of Winchester, 
and of the abbey of St Albans, which had good and suffi- 
cient grant thereof by your laws. 

24. Also the same lord cardinal, at many times when any 
houses of religion hath been void, hath sent his officers 
thither, and with crafty perswasions hath induced them to 
compromit their election in him ; and before he nam'd or 
confirm'd any of them, he and his servants receiv'd so much 
great goods of them, that in a manner it hath been to the 
undoing of the house. 

25. Also, by his authority legantine, the same lord car- 
dinal hath visited the most part of the religious houses and 
colleges of this your realm, and hath taken from them the 
twenty-fifth part of their livelyhood, to the great extortion 
of your subjects, and derogation of your laws and preroga- 
tive, and no law hath been to bear him so to do. 

26. Also, when matters have been near a judgment by 
process of your common law, the same lord cardinal hath 
not only given and sent injunctions to the parties, but also 
sent for your judges, and expressly by threats commanded 

2 



APPENDIX. 387 

them todeferr the judgment, to the evident subversion of 
your laws, if the judges woud so have ceas'd. 

27. And whereas neither the Bishop of York, nor Win- 
chester, nor the abbey of St Albans, nor the profit of his 
legation, nor the benefit of the Chancery, nor his great pen- 
sion out of France, nor his wards and other inordinate tak- 
ing, cou'd suffice him, he hath made his son Winter to spend 
seven and twenty hundred pounds by the year, which he 
taketh to his own use, and giveth him not past two hundred 
pounds yearly to live upon. 

28. Also, whereas the said lord cardinal did first sue 
unto your grace to have your assent to the legate de latere, 
promising and solemnly protesting before your majesty, and 
before the lords both spiritual and temporal, that he wou'd 
nothing do nor attempt by the virtue of his legacie contrary 
to your gracious prerogative or regality, or to the dammage 
or prejudice of the jurisdiction of any ordinary, and that by 
his legacie no man shou'd be hurt nor offended ; and upon 
that condition, and no other, he was admitted by your grace 
to be legate within this your realm : this condition he hath 
broken, and is well known to all your subjects. And when 
that he made this promise, he was busic in his suit at Rome 
to visit all the clergy of England both exempt and not ex- 
empt. 

29. Also, upon the suit of the said lord cardinal at Home 
to have his authority legantinc, he made untrue surmise to 
the pope's holiness against the clergy of your realm ; which 
was, that the regular persons of the said clergy had given 
themselves in reprobum tension ; which words St Paul, 
writing to the Romans, applied to abominable sin; which 
slander to your church of England shall for ever remain in 
the register at Rome against the clergy of this your realm. 

30. Also, the said lord cardinal had the more part of the 
goods of Dr Smith, late bishop of Lincoln, Bishop Savage of 
York, Master Dalbye, archdeacon of Richmond, Master 



388 APPENDIX. 

Tonyers, Dr Rothall, late bishop of Durham,, and of Dr Fox, 
late bishop of Winchester, contrary to their wills, and your 
laws and justice. 

31. Also, at the Oyer and Terminer of York, proclama- 
tion was made that every man shou'd put in their bills for 
extortion of ordinaries : and when divers bills were put in 
against the officers of the said lord cardinal of extortion, for 
taking twelvepence of the pound for probation of testaments, 
whereof divers bills were found before Justice Fitz Herbert 
and other commissioners, the said lord cardinal removed the 
said indictments into the Chancery by certiorari, and rebuk'd 
the said Fitz Herbert for the same cause. 

32. Also the said lord cardinal hath busied himself, and 
endeavour'd, by crafty and untrue tales, to make dissention 
and debate amongst your nobles of the realm, which is ready 
to be prov'd. 

33. Also the said lord cardinal's officers hath divers times 
compell'd your subjects to serve him with carts for carriage, 
and also his servants hath taken both corn and cattle, fish, 
and all other victual, at your grace's price, or under, as tho' 
it had been for your grace, which is contrary to your laws. 

34. Also the said lord cardinal hath misus'd himself in 
your most honourable court, in keeping of as great estate 
there in your absence, as your grace would have done if you 
had been there present in your own person. 

35. Also, his servants, by virtue of your commission under 
your broad seal by him to them given, have taken cattle and 
all other victual, at as low a price as your purveyors have 
done for your grace by your prerogative, against the laws of 
your realm. 

36. Also, where it hath been accustom'd, that your pur- 
veyors for your honourable household have had yearly out 
of your town and liberty of St Albans three or four hundred 
quarters of wheat ; truth it is, that since the lord cardinal 
had the room of abbot, your said purveyors cou'd not be 



APPENDIX. 380 

suffer'd by him and his officers to take any wheat within the 
said town or liberties 

37. Also, he hath divers times given injunction to your 
servants, that have been for causes before him in the Star 
Chamber, that they, nor other for them, shou'd make labour 
by any manner of way, directly or indirectly, to your grace, 
to obtain your grace's favour or pardon, which was a pre- 
sumptuous intent for any subject. 

38. Also the said lord cardinal did call before him Sir 
John Stanley, Knight, which had taken a farm by covent- 
seal of the abbot and convent of Chester, and afterwards by 
his power and might, contrary to right, committed the said 
Sir John Stanley to the prison of Fleet by the space of one 
year, unto such time as he compell'd the said Sir John to 
release his covent-seal to one Leghe of Adlington, which 
married one Lark's daughter, which woman the said lord 
cardinal kept, and had with her two children : * whereupon 
the said Sir John Stanley, upon displeasure taken in his 
heart, made himself monk in Westminster, and there died. 

39. Also, on a time your grace being at St Albans, ac- 
cording to the ancient custom us'd within your verge, your 
clerk of the mercat doing his office, did present unto your 
officers of your most honourable household the prices of all 
manner of victuals within the precinct of the verge. And 
'twas commanded by your said officers to set up the said 
prices both on the gates of your honourable household, and 
also within the market-place in the town of St Albans, as of 
ancient custom it hath been us'd. And the lord cardinal, 
hearing the same, presumptuously, and not like a subject, 
caus'd the aforesaid prices, which were seal'd with your 
grace's seal, accustomably us'd for the same, to be taken off, 



• I have not been able to learn what became of bis son ; but, 
by a letter in the British MuMUlD, his daughter appears tohavc 
been a nun in a convent in Shaftesbury. 



390 APPENDIX. 

and pull'tl down in the said market-place where they were 
set up, and in the same places set up his own prices seal'd 
with his seal, and wou'd, if it had not been letted, in sem- 
blable manner have us'd your seal standing upon your gates : 
and also would of his presumptuous mind have openly set 
in the stocks within your said town your clerk of your mar- 
ket : by which presumption and usurpation your grace may 
perceive that in his heart he hath reputed himself to be equal 
with your royal majesty. 

40. Also the said lord cardinal, of his further pompous 
and presumptuous mind, hath enterpriz'd to joyn and im- 
print the cardinal's hat under your arms in your coin of 
groats made at your city of York, which like deed hath not 
been seen to have been done by any subject within your 
realm before this time. 

41. Also, where one Sir Ed. Jones, clerk, parson of Crow- 
ley, in the county of Bucks, in the eighteenth year of your 
most noble reign, let his said parsonage, with all tythes and 
other profits of the same, to one William Johnson, by in- 
denture for certain years, within which years the dean of the 
said cardinal's college in Oxford pretended title to a certain 
portion of tythes within the said parsonage, supposing the 
said portion to belong to the parsonage of Chichelly, which 
was appropriated to the priory of Tykeford lately suppress'd, 
where (of truth) the parsons of Crowley have been peaceably 
possess'd of the said portion time out of mind ; whereupon 
a subpoena was directed to the said Johnson to appear before 
the said lord cardinal at Hampton-court, out of any term, 
with an injunction to suffer the said dean to occupy the said 
portion. Whereupon the said Johnson appear'd before the 
said lord cardinal at Hampton- court, where, without any 
bill, the said lord cardinal committed him to the Fleet, 
where he remain'd by the space of twelve weeks, because he 
wou'd not depart with the said portion. And, at the last, 
upon a recognizance made that he shou'd appear before the 



APPENDIX. 391 

said lord cardinal whensoever he was commanded, he was 
delivered out of the Fleet; howbeit as yet the said portion 
is so kept from him that he dare not deal with it. 

42. Also, where one Martin Docowra had a lease of the 
mannor of Balsall, in the county of Warwick, for term of 
certain years, an injunction came to him out of the Chan- 
cery by writ, upon pain of a thousand pounds, that he shou'd 
avoid the possession of the same mannor, and suffer Sir 
George Throckmorton, Knight, to take the profits of the 
same mannor to the time the matter depending in the Chan- 
cery between the lord of St John's arid the said Docowra 
was discuss'd. And yet the said Docowra never made answer 
in the Chancery, ne ever was call'd into the Chancery for 
that matter ; and now of late he hath receiv'd a like injunc- 
tion upon pain of two thousand pounds, contrary to the 
course of common law. 

43. Also, whereas in the parliament chamber, and in open 
parliament, communication and devices were had and mov'el, 
wherein mention was by an incident made of matters touching 
heresies and erroneous sects : it was spoken and reported by 
one bishop there being present, and confirm'd by a good 
number of the same bishops, in presence of all the lords spi- 
ritual and temporal then assembled, that two of the said bi- 
shops were minded and desir'd to repair unto the university 
of Cambridge for examination, reformation, and correction, 
of such errors as then seem'd, and were reported to reign 
among the students and scholars of the same, as well touch- 
ing the Lutheran sect and opinions as otherwise: the lord 
cardinal, inform'd of the good minds and intents of the said 
two bishops in that behalf, expressly inhibited and com- 
manded them in no wise so to do. By means whereof, the 
same errors, as they affirm'd, crept more abroad, and took 
greater place ; saying, furthermore, that 'twas not in their 
defaults that the said heresies were not punished, but in the 



392 APPENDIX. 

said lord cardinal, and that 'twas no reason any blame or lack 
shou'd be arrected to them for his offence. Whereby it evi- 
dently appeareth, that the said lord cardinal, besides all 
other his heinous offences, hath been the impeacher and dis- 
turber of due and direct correction of heresies, being highly 
to the danger and peril of the whole body, and good Chris- 
tian people of this your realm. 

44. Finally, forasmuch as by the aforesaid articles is evi- 
dently declar'd to your most royal majesty, that the lord car- 
dinal, by his outrageous pride, hath greatly shadowed a long 
season your grace's honour, which is most highly to be re- 
garded, and, by his insatiable avarice and ravenous appetite 
to have riches and treasure without measure, hath so griev- 
ously oppress'd your poor subjects with so manifold crafts of 
bribery and extortion, that the commonwealth of this your 
grace's realm is thereby greatly decayed and impoverished : 
and also by his cruelty, iniquity, affection, and partiality, 
hath subverted the due course and order of your grace's laws 
to the undoing of a great number of your loving people. 

Please it your most royal majesty therefore, of your excel- 
lent goodness towards the weal of this your realm and sub- 
jects of the same, to set such order and direction upon the 
said lord cardinal, as may be to the terrible example of 
others to beware so to offend your grace and your laws here- 
after : and that he be so provided for, that he never have 
any power, jurisdiction, or authority, hereafter, to trouble, 
vex, and impoverish, the commonwealth of this your realm, 
as he hath done heretofore, to the great hurt and damage of 
every man almost high and low, which for your grace so 
doing will daily pray, as their duty is, to Almighty God for 
the prosperous estate of your most royal majesty, long to 
endure in honour and good health, to the pleasure of God, 
and your heart's most desire. 

Subscribed the first day of December, the 'ilst year of 



APPENDIX. 393 

the reign of our sovereign lord King Henry the 
Eighth. 

T. More. T. Rochford. 

T. Norfolk. T. Darcy. 

C. SUFF. W. MOUNTJOY. 

T. Dorset. W. Sandys. 

H. Oxen. W. Fitzwilliam. 

John Oxonford. Henry Guldeford. 

H.Northumberland. Anthony Fitzherbert. 

G. Shrewsbury. John FiTzjames. 

R. Fitzwater. 



Copy of a Letter to Mr Cromwell, in relation to a Bastard 
Daughter of Cardinal Wolsey's, in the Nunnery of Shafts- 
bury. 

Ryghte hon'able, — Aftr most humbyll comendacyons, I 
lykewyse beseeche you, that the contents of this ray symple 
lett. may be secret, and that for asmyche as I have grete 
cause to go home, I beseech your good mast'shipe to coraand 
Mr Herytag to give atendans opon your mast'shipe for 
the knowlege of your plesure in the sayd secrete mat', whiche 
ys this ; ray lord cardinall caused me to put a yong gentyll 
woman to the monystery and nu 'ry off Shafftysbyry, and 
there to be p'fessyd, and wold hur to benamydray doythter, 
and the troy the ys, she was his dowythter, and now by 
yo r . visitacyon she hathe comawyment to dep'te, and 
knowy the not whether ; wherefore I humbly beseeche youre 
mast'shipe to dyrect yo r . letter to the abbas there, that she 
may there co'tynu, at hur full age to be p'fessid. 

WWte dowytc she ys ether xxiiij yerc full, or shal be at 
shuche tyme of the ycreas she was boren, which was abowyte 
Myclelmas. In this yo r . doyng, yo'. mastershipe shall do a 

2 C 






394 APPENDIX. 

very charitable ded, and also bynd hur and me to do you 
such s'vyce as lythe in owre lytell powers, as knowythe 
owre Lord God, whome I humely beseeche p'speryusly and 
longe to p's've you. 

Your orator, 

John Clusey. 
To the rygthe hon'abull and his most 
especiall good Mr Master Cromell, 
secretary to owre sovW the Kyng. 



THE END. 



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